"You were up there when it happened. I can't take the risk on you. You have one bad day, freeze up, and the next time someone falls to their death, it'll be because you didn't catch them."

Dick, seventeen, felt himself go… numb. That… that was all he could feel.

He should have felt… something, right?

Anger?

Sadness?

Fear?

Betrayal?

Haly's Circus had always been home to him. Even when he had been adopted by Bruce, he'd made sure to diligently keep up with his training.

Because…

Because he'd always planned on going home at some point.

Even when he was Robin. Because that wasn't going to be his life forever. Haly's Circus was always there, waiting for him to come back.

Waiting for him to come home.

He didn't hear the rest of what Ringmaster Roberts said. He barely felt the hand on his shoulder.

He felt the ice cold wind whip him in the face as he walked back out into the night. Because it was the middle of winter. And the middle of the night. And he had run away.

He… ran away. Because he and Bruce had had a fight. And…

He hadn't bothered to leave a note. Or tell anyone where he was going.

Because he'd been going home.

He hadn't even packed more than what he could carry in his school bag.

Because he'd been going HOME.

But now? Now he was in Metropolis. In a snowstorm. At night. With a jacket, and a hat as his only protection against the elements.

Was… was that why he was shaking?

His insides were tied in knots, and he stumbled off the sidewalk, not quite realizing until then that he had closed his eyes.

Luckily the street was empty.

Yeah.

Luckily…

His breath hitched and he heard a soft gasp, only realizing that it had come from himself when he felt how tight his chest was.

No.

No, please.

He didn't want to cry.

Not here.

Not… not now.

He was Robin-

Except… he wasn't. Not anymore. Not now that he'd run away.

Now, he was just Dick Greyson-

"GOD, FUCKING DAMNIT!"

He spun on his heel and punched the closest thing; a brick building.

He didn't stop punching until the rage in his chest had dissipated, replaced with pain as his shredded, bruised hand hung limply by his side. He could feel the wetness, warm for a moment before freezing against his skin or dripping down to color the snow.

Shakily moving a step closer to the wall, he braced his uninjured arm against it and rested his head on his wrist.

He no longer cared if he was crying.

He no longer had it in him to care if he was crying so hard that he was breathing in strangled gasps, or that his cheeks burned with the frozen tears, or that his hand felt like Bane had crushed it slowly under his foot.

He was alone, far from anything familiar. He'd abandoned one family, only to have karma kick his ass and have his other family abandon him.

"I- I found him, Bruce. I'll send you our location."

Dick heard the voice from… somewhere behind him. He didn't move. He had cried out most what little energy he'd had left. He was still braced against the brick wall, breathing shakily.

He knew that he should have reacted to someone sneaking up on him, someone softly calling his name. But he didn't care. He didn't even have it in him to try.

He felt numb again, like he had had a few minutes to feel every emotion at once and was now just… done.

He heard the voice talking to him, heard the different inflections indicating that he'd been asked something, but he just closed his eyes.

His breathing was evening out, just a bit, but his chest was still tight enough to hurt. He was still shaking.

His ears were ringing, and he felt lightheaded.

The voice was closer.

Had… had Haly's Circus decided that long ago that they were done with him? Had he really spent years planning to go back to them… when they had just left him without a second thought?

He was so stupid.

Was that the real reason Bruce had been able to adopt him without anyone contesting him? He'd always just assumed that Haly's Circus had given up when they heard that they'd have to beat billionaire Bruce Wayne in court to get custody of him, but… they'd never even tried, had they? Because they'd never wanted him.

"Dickie?"

The voice was closer. The softness of the tone stirred something in him. He opened his eyes, just a bit. Just enough to see who was with him.

Superman's face showed nothing but concern and worry. He was a few feet away, holding his cape in his hands.

"Dick, hey. I'm just going to put this around you, okay? It's freezing out here." He held out the red cape and took a slow, careful step forwards, like he was afraid if he moved too fast the teen would spook and run.

Like Dick had the energy to run anymore. He exhaled and closed his eyes again. Superman could do what he wanted.

He felt the weight of the cape as it slid around his shoulders, but the Kryptonian didn't back away after securing it. He ran a hand over Dick's back, offering comfort as best as he could. He didn't know what was wrong, but he knew that Dick was upset.

That little gesture, that little spark of warmth after all that he had just been through, was all it took. He was moving before he realized what he was doing, turning and allowing himself to be wrapped in Superman's embrace.

He felt the arms circle around him and hold him close, felt the deliberate care he took to avoid Dick's hand, heard the words of comfort being whispered over his soft sobs.

God, he was so tired.

He was so drained. Exhausted.

He had no idea how long they just stood there like that, but Superman, bless him, hadn't once tried to get him to talk. He hadn't tried to tell him it was okay, or that he should have known better than to be out in this weather, at this time of night.

He hadn't even made any move to let go until they heard the sounds of tires pulling up on the street beside them.

"Is he okay? What happened?"

That was Bruce. Dick's eyes were closed against the wind, but he knew Bruce's voice.

"I don't know what happened, but it must have been bad. H- careful. His hands pretty messed up."

He heard Bruce curse under his breath and felt something touch his wrist. They were examining his hand.

Dick hunched his shoulders and pressed closer to Superman, not ready for the hug to be over. He just needed someone to… be there. To not leave him. To not cast him aside like he was useless to them.

Was that what Bruce would do when he found out Dick had damaged his own hand? Fighting a two-story law office?

"Dick? What happened? Son, please. Look at me."

He couldn't look at Bruce. He'd always respected the man, always loved and looked up to him. But had also kept it in the back of his mind that Bruce had taken him away from his real family. His real home.

Now he knew that wasn't the case. But he'd found that out too late. He'd found out the truth after yelling at the man who had taken him in when he hadn't even realized just how alone he'd been. After he'd run away. After he'd tried to go back to-,

"Dick?"

There was a hand on his head.

"We're going back to the car, alright?"

Superman slowly removed one of his arms and Dick opened his eyes again. He let himself be guided over to the waiting car. Let himself be lowered to sit in the passenger seat.

He let the men take the cape back without any resistance, but as soon as it was gone, as soon as the door was shut and he was alone in the warm car, he felt the feeling of being really, truly alone crash into him all over again.

He wrapped his uninjured arm over his chest and exhaled slowly, just feeling his heart race against his ribs.

The driver's side door opened and he felt the car move as Bruce got in. "Dick, are you alright? What happened?"

I'm fine.

I'm sorry.

Why did you come for me?

How bad did I scare Alfred?

"Did you know? That they blacklisted me?" Dick didn't know why that was what came out when he opened his eyes, but he didn't take it back. If Bruce had just let him hope, for all that time-,

Bruce looked shocked. He'd been in the middle of steering them back onto the road, but at Dick's words, he hit the brakes. Once again, Dick found himself lucky that there were no other cars on the road at the moment.

"What?" He didn't ask who. Dick knew that he wasn't wondering who he could have meant. They had known the circus was coming through for weeks. They had bought tickets. They had been looking forward to going together.

They could also see the tents up the street.

Dick swallowed and looked down. The bottoms of his pants were soaked with melted snow. That… that could be part of why he was still so cold. Come to think of it, his jacket and hat felt heavier than they had when he'd left the manor.

Great.

"Did they give you a reason?" Bruce asked. He seemed to notice that they were stopped halfway into the street and hit the gas again.

Dick's hand twinged and he resisted the urge to look at it. He didn't want to see what he'd done. "Apparently I'm a liability. I saw them die. He said that all it would take would be a bad day, and I'd freeze up." He closed his eyes again, voice getting soft. "The next time someone falls to their death, it'll be my fault. They're not willing to take the chance on me."

The car once again stopped, this time hard enough that Dick lurched forwards against his seatbelt. Before he could right himself, he felt himself being gathered into a tight, somewhat awkward hug.

"Dick-,"

Bruce…

"I am so sorry. Dickie, I'm so sorry."

Dick couldn't help it. He melted into the hug, resting his head on Bruce's shoulder. He unwrapped his fully working hand from his chest and hugged Bruise right back, never wanting to let go.

"I just want to go home." He'd never heard his own voice sound that… broken before. "I- I'm sorry I ran away. I just want to go home."