-Point of no return.
Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely, if ever, do they forgive them. -Oscar Wilde
Swing-sets, Dick loved them even as an adult, well as adult as he was. Their chains jingled like bells and the seat always fit in a way that made him feel safe. The one in the yard wasn't the one Bruce had bought him, no it had met a slow rusted demise right around Tim's turn at being 'Boy Wonder.' This one was newer, but it would do.
"I really don't see the point in this Grayson. Why must I do it?" Damian looked up blankly from his position in the bright green seat; his fingers curled uncertainly around the swing's chains.
"You mustn't do anything, but why wouldn't you want to give it a try, too whelmed?" Dick gave a toothy grin that was capable of goading the little brat into almost anything. With a slight huff and puff he got Damian airborne with a few firm pushes. It wasn't long before Damian was pumping his legs of his own accord, a look fit for his age finally seeming to steal across his face.
Leaving the kid to his new found wonder Dick ambled back toward the picnic table set up beneath a nearby oak tree, the smell of burgers and hotdogs wafting through the air. It had seemed like a good idea, simple food and some fresh air. Lord knows that the afternoons Will reading disaster had been heavy on the dis and low on aster.
"It's easy to forget he's a kid, you know?"
Jason hummed in response; his face was still pinched in a way that betrayed the sense of rage bubbling just beneath the surface. If Dick had to, he'd bet every penny in his trust fund that Jay would be gone by morning.
"Don't you ever wish things could just last?" The question caught Dick off guard and he tried not to read the impending goodbye so readily poised on his brother's tongue. It was Jason after all; the only goodbye he could expect was an empty bed.
"The good things sure," his reply was guarded even though the other was focused steadfast on keeping their dinner from turning into blackened hockey pucks.
"You and I are too far gone Dickie-bird, Barbara and Selina too. But what about Damian, and Tim? What blood inscribed contract of fate says that this has to be the road they take?"
Dick arched a disbelieving eyebrow, watching Jason's muscles pull taught under his scrutiny. "Careful now Jay-bird, I might just begin to think you've started to care about us."
"Of course I care, the fact you aren't all dead is proof enough. But I'm serious Dick, doesn't Damian deserve the right to I dunno…go to high school, sneak food into movies, and take a pretty girl to prom or something? Not to mention that Tim could name any college he so desired without having to so much as write more than his name on the application."
With a quiet sigh Dick could not find the words to contest Jason's ramble. "Of course they deserve it, Cass and Stephanie too." His voice was quiet and resigned, the typical dose of Grayson's trademark optimism lost to weariness. "But you know as well as I it won't happen. That line, the point of no return, you cross it the moment you lay eyes on the reality of it all. I found the batcave, you stole tires from the batmobile, Tim idolized a batarang, and Damian being the son of the bat didn't have a choice at all. Once you've felt it, you've seen up close and personal… nothing can tear you from it." Dick knew it well, even joining the Bludhaven police had done little to fulfill him, Nightwing's birth had been no more a choice than breathing.
"So that's it then. We stare down paralysis, overcome death, and sacrifice our will to appease a man who isn't even alive anymore?"
"He never forced our hand Jay, every one of us came to him."
"He could have, he should have said no!" Jason jerked back from the grill, gripping his palm where an angry red welt was taking form. Leaping the wooden table Dick took the ice cold glass of tea he'd been sipping lazily and poured it over the burn, watching the slim amount of relief that registered in Jason's carefully controlled face.
"Nothing would have stopped us Jason, nothing will stop them."
"You could."
"But I won't. If Bruce was right about anything it's that Gotham does need Batman, and Batman needs a Robin."
"So which one will be your Robin?"
Dick dodged the question with a quiet sigh, he'd been weighing the same thought for most of the morning. Tim was quickly outgrowing the role, yet he showed no sign of wanting to take his own name. On the opposite end of the spectrum it was obvious that Damian was scrambling for an outlet, his desire to take up the title of Robin made clear from the start.
"Who says I'm going to be the one to take up the mantle?"
It was the first time in a long time Jason had seen any air of uncertainty around Goldie, and somewhere in his twisted mind he found he didn't much like an insecure Grayson. "Bruce said so, this—" He gestured toward the damp napkin Dick was pressing to the tender burn on his palm. "This proves it, don't make me say it more than once Grayson, but if anyone deserves that cowl, if anyone can use it to its true potential it's you."
"Thanks Jay…that means more than you know." Dick reached out to hug his younger brother only to have a red hot spatula brandished in his face. There was no look of apology or humor in Jason's eyes, only a neutral blankness that threatened to spontaneously combust at any moment. The blankness was an improvement from homicidal rage, and Dick could live with it.
Slowly he retracted his out stretched arms and held them briefly in surrender before they dropped down to his sides. He offered Jason a small smirk that was returned with a slight twitch of the corner of his brother's mouth, it was the closest he'd come to a smile while sober in a long time.
"Jay…your burgers are on fire."
A howling of multilingual obscenities permeated the air as flame licked burgers and blackened hotdogs were pulled free of the coals. Tim and Damian appeared over Dick's shoulder eyeing the charred lumps wearily.
"Eat them!"
Hell's fire burned within Jason's eyes, the blue-green oceans piercing his siblings into submission. They muscled down three bites each of a burned barbeque product before the rogue Robin gave in.
"I'll order the pizza." Gracelessly spitting out a glob of blackened goo, Jason ignored the stifled snickers of his family and reluctantly dialed the number for Cappetto's.
AN: I don't really know if I would call this fluff, just a bit of peacemaking. 0.o Anyway I know I said this would be the last fluff ball before things got twisted, but...I need one more moment between Dick and JayJay before we hit the nitty gritty. Love as always to all you awesome reviewers, and just a bit of advice, don't let Jay cook ya dinner.