Tim cringed as he heard another crash followed by pounding feet upstairs, "You little shit!"
"Richard! Todd is trying to kill me!"
More pounding feet.
Tim looked over at Dick on the couch as they both listened to Damian try and avoid Jason's wrath. Dick sighed tiredly before leveraging himself up onto his elbow, "Jason! Damian! Just come downstairs!"
Dick was cut off as a thud sounded at the top of the stairs and Damian barrelled down the stairs and into the hallway. Jason trotted after him more firmly, his face pink with frustration. He turned to Dick, "That punk is dead meat. Show him to go through my stuff" Jason muttered as he jogged after Damian down the hallway. Dick watched them go before rolling his eyes and plopping back down onto the cushions.
Tim watched him pull out Alfred's smartphone, which had become his phone basically. To Tim, Dick had adjusted crazy well and crazy fast; which would usually make him suspicious. There were definitely bumps in the road but the transition back into family life had gone much better with Dick than with Jason, and Dick had been gone for 5 years and not 1.
Dick had let his hair grow out until Alfred had insisted he looked like a hippie and taken Dick to get a proper haircut. Tim thought Dick looked more like his big brother than ever. His dark healthy locks fell in short waves around his head and he had lost a little muscle mass. Tim assumed this was because he had fallen back into his usual acrobatics and calisthenic workouts instead of whatever high-weight, high-rep routine the Court of Owls must have had him on.
Most significantly were his eyes. Dick's eyes hadn't turned yellow in months and Dr. Leslie and Alfred liked to think this was because Dick was in a stable and emotionally fulfilling environment. Tim knew that contributed and helped but honestly knew it was just Dick being Dick. It would sound incredibly biased and emotionally formed to say this to Leslie or Bruce, which is why he didn't, but if anyone else were Dick, they wouldn't bounce back within a year. Dick had always been strangely durable and repellent to damage, most people would think Jason's background would make him more like this, but Tim found Dick was the most durable because he survived most things with a smile.
Dick had been back for a full year with them now and had played by Bruce's rules, had fallen back into his favorite warm-up and nighttime stretches, hell he'd found pleasure in helping Alfred clean around the house. No one else would have been able to mentally and emotionally recuperate as fast or as well as Dick by just being with family and friends, especially ones as emotionally stunted as his.
They were all aware that the majority of those 5 years were still a grey area as Dick had come to terms with reality but hadn't remembered everything. Tim suspected that wasn't completely true but felt that Dick had a right to his own mind and thoughts. At the end of the day Tim trusted Dick to tell Bruce or the JL about any memories that were actually beneficial or detrimental to anyone, he'd never put his family in harm's way by keeping information to himself like that.
The Justice League and Young Justice team had been coming around much more frequently, mostly the sidekicks from the original team. Tim and Damian had gone back to helping with the YJ team because its newer members needed all the help they could get. Everyone remembered the famous Nightwing and first Robin but not all were special enough to claim to be close to him. There were still some members like Blue Beetle, Donna Troy, and Zantanna who were still in the dark but Dick had promised to make it up to everyone when he fully returned. Bruce never liked to delve too deep into those conversations with Dick. It was obvious he was still uncomfortable with Dick's outings to this day.
The agreement was that Dick would never be outside the Manor grounds alone and that he had to have a hat or beanie or hood on, preferably sunglasses and to use colored contacts. Bruce suggested Dick change up the colors each week to throw off whatever stalker Bruce imagined Dick had picked up on his trip out for ice cream.
Dick had been abiding by all of Bruce's rules fairly well still, which came as a surprise to most as the first Robin was known for his defiance against the Bat; and then living through said tantrum from the Bat.
The backyard and forest on the grounds were free reign for Dick, which he often took advantage of. He usually took off with a Nintendo Switch or Alfred's iPhone and picked a tree to nestle in for a few hours. His alone time didn't last long though as Bruce found reassurance in randomly checking in with Dick at any point in the day, along with Damian's desire to be glued to Dick's hip the moment he returned from school each day.
Even if Dick minded, he would never say so; everyone knew.
It was still mind-boggling to Tim that Dick was back. Most days felt strange because half of him was still adjusting to Dick being back and the other felt like Dick had never left. After they officially hit a year since Dick returned, Tim told himself that this was becoming more and more true.
Dick had tossed around the idea of him transitioning back into Nightwing by attending YJ trainings and sparring to which Bruce firmly shut down. Dick had countered little by little and at this point was just holding non-official trainings and sparrings in the Batcave with the older YJ members and the Batclan.
While this was being arranged, there had been a few tense days between Dick and Bruce. Tim could only conclude that Bruce wanted to vet Dick's fighting style and intensity before letting him spar with the others again. While everyone was allowed over, Dick didn't begin sparring and training again until around month 11 recently so it was safe to assume that Bruce found something he didn't approve of.
"Kal told me that the team is getting antsy about meeting you. Well, the newer members and the rumors they've heard" Tim informed Dick. "You remember everyone right? I don't think there are any members that joined after you went missing" Tim looked away, "Although the entire Young Justice was put on ice when we all thought you died; but only for like a year"
Dick nodded, "Yea, Zantanna joined for like 2 months before, well, everything happened so I know everyone else must be close but she and the others are still a bit new to me"
"It's whatever, you'll have time to meet them all and win their undying love and affection; like always"
Dick smirked at Tim's tone and word choice before lightly kicking his leg.
"Dami and Jay have to come back at some point, we still have to go to Michael's, we can go check out that fancy Barnes and Nobles too," Dick said to Tim.
"I'll text them to just come back and get over themselves" Tim drawled.
While Tim handled getting their 2 brothers back into one room and in one piece, Dick jogged upstairs to change. He threw on some jeans and a T-shirt before striding into the bathroom. He was glad that he was starting to fit most of his shirts again, Bruce and Tim said he was probably just working with a lot of weights past his capacity while he was gone or being active in strenuous ways but Dick didn't find any comfort in that. If that were true then the Court of Owls had him on some weird training regime for 5 years instead of treating him like a typical prisoner. Dick didn't like to imagine the reasons why they would allow him to train and eat well. Their prisoners hadn't been much help either. Bruce had allowed them to stay for a while but when they stopped talking to Tim and Bruce, preferring Dick over all else, Bruce insisted they wouldn't be of much help as a source of information and allowed Superman and Martian Manhunter to transfer them to another Lague holding cell. Dick hadn't heard of how they were doing since so he assumed Martian Manhunter hadn't had success in extracting anything from their minds.
Dick would never admit it but a small of him ached to have to support the talons being shipped off. They supported the Court up until they were moved but they had never made a move against Dick. He assumed it was out of loyalty or some misplaced sentimentality but Dick didn't feel quite right in how it was handled, like he couldn't justify his actions if he were in Bruce's position. It reminded Dick of when Alfred caught a mouse in the kitchen when he was 10 years old, Dick had cried for Alfred to just set it loose but Alfred had explained that the mouse would sneak back in now that it knew where food was. He also explained that the mouse carried diseases and he would rather kill the mouse and be sure it was dead than risk Bruce or Dick catching something dangerous from the mouse. 10-year-old Dick couldn't fault Alfred for expressing his concern for Dick but Dick never felt like he would have done the same thing; Jay used to say it was from sleeping with elephants and rats.
Dick finished washing his face and stopped, catching his own gaze on the mirror's reflection in front of him. He couldn't decide if he looked older or not, it was hard not to stare down his own eyes and face sometimes. He was sure it was some sort of subtle complex that gave him this urge but Dick found small fascinations with staring at the cut of his jaw or where his hairline started, or even staring at the arch of his eyebrows over his blue, blue eyes. Without second-guessing the urge, Dick leaned his head to the side and parted a line down his scalp above his ear to see faint remnants of black and blue underneath his dark hair.
Bruce had tried asking Dick about the tattoo twice, once when he asked if Dick wanted it lazored removed and the second was when he asked if Dick remembered anything about it. Dick said no to both. Dick had lied.
Some days, he woke feeling very refreshed and full of energy, ready to battle the day and forget the past ever happened. On those days he felt like everything would be perfect and all come together somehow if he removed the tattoo. As if the ink being gone would remove his absence the last 5 years. On other days, Dick wanted nothing more than to shave his head and stare at the tattoo long and hard. Without checking with Bruce, Dick had snuck into his own files a few weeks back and examined the pictures he knew Bruce took when he was first brought home. When he had a very old mohawk/mullet haircut and the bluebird was even more visible, Dick had found it too easy to ignore the ink on his head but after a few dreams and yoga sessions, Dick had pulled the decrepit and cruel memory out his head; since then, he hadn't stopped wanting to touch it and run his fingers over it. The pictures Dick found showed his unconscious head turned to show that the tattoo was of large claws or talons emerging for nowhere to descend upon a smaller blue bird, the outside of the image and the claws were wrapped neatly between Celtic knots and lines.
Dick was almost certain he would never divulge the memory of the tattooing to Bruce. Why would he describe something that gave them 0 information on their enemy and only highlighted how much pain Dick was in; it was just asking for Bruce to view him as weaker and more vulnerable than he already did.
"Grandmaster pl-"
"Silence" came a stern voice from somewhere behind him. Dick had been pushed onto the floor so his hands and knees were holding him up as he stared at the concrete floor. He tried to focus himself in the moment by counting the seconds in between the scarlet drips from his mouth to the floor. At this point, a small glistening puddle had formed and a morbid part of Dick wanted to run his finger through it, and start drawing with his blood. He was never allowed to be creative or do what he wanted, he was never allowed to do anything on a whim. Everything he did and thought belonged to the Court, he was merely an extension of their will and choices.
Lincol-Talon stood to his right, towering over his cold form. Dick remembered being in sweats and one sock, where was his shirt? Did he lose only 1 sock?
"I hear you hesitated in training today, Grandson" It wasn't a question.
"I-I'm so-"
"I. Said. Silence" Grandmaster hissed. Dick fell silent, willing even his erratic heartbeat to fall quiet to please the men in the room.
"How many tries did it take him?" Grandmaster asked Talon.
"5"
"Hmmmmm"
Dick couldn't help the shudder that ran through him, causing some of his blood to fall just shy of the growing puddle beneath his mouth.
"I have done my best to erase all that you do not require so that you may evolve into a Talon for the Court with no burdens. I have impressed upon you the need to release your pathetic adopted family, your useless upbringing, and your past….I believe it is fair to say I have succeeded in all but what comes naturally to you. My dear boy, you may not understand but part of what makes you unique is what I want to so dearly eradicate and preserve all at once"
Grandmaster paused and Dick thought he wanted a response but quickly squashed that notion, 'no more whippings' he thought, no more, just stay quiet.
"Such a bright young prosperous soul, so hard to redirect. I know your old mentor was very thorough when he set you down his path of justice but now it is time to realize how pitiful and pointless that effort was. You were always destined for something greater. No one will think less of your dear boy, just allow me to redirect all your passion and resistance towards something worthwhile, something that will cause you less pain and bring your family more pride"
Dick's breath stuttered at that, his mind was whirling, 'What adopted family?' 'what justice?' 'why was he in need of justice?'
Wasn't he with his only family? Wasn't he-
"I can see that mind of yours running in loops boy, please save yourself the pain and toil. Stop thinking of that which does not matter, all that matters is your training and my words; the words of the Court and your betters"
Dick nodded but stayed quiet.
Talon sighed, obviously reading something in the room that Dick couldn't
"What is your name, Talon?" Talon asked.
"D-Talon"
Grandmaster huffed out a chuckle, "Well, at least we don't need to argue over that anymore" He sighed to himself, "Now I just need to make sure that you believe what you are telling me, Grandson"
Dick, no Talon, 'Talon' he mentally screamed at himself, felt his stomach plummet beneath his stomach, past his crotch, and into his trembling legs.
Dick chanced a glance up through his ratty greasy fringe, seeing Talon lock eyes with Grandmaster over his shoulder before nodding.
Dick threw his gaze away before Talon could see, but felt himself tense at movement.
Talon bent down and grabbed Dick by the scruff of his hair, dragging him to his feet with a hiss. Dick stumbled as he tried to keep his balance without grasping Taloin's forearm for support. Dick scrambled to catch sight of Grandmaster as he was shoved out of the room by the shorter, stronger man. Talon always liked to touch his neck when directing his body, D-Talon wasn't sure what to think about it. Part of him didn't like it, part of him tried to ignore that side of him because he shouldn't have an opinion on his body, he was a weapon of the Court's will…right?
Dick was pushed down the hallway into a separate room. There were so many rooms, so many cells and chambers, he had lost track honestly. There were only 2 places he was allowed on his own anyway; everywhere else he had to be accompanied by Talon or Grandmaster, or another servant of the Court.
As they entered, he caught sight of a single chair in the room beneath a bright ceiling light. The barrenness of the room immediately set something off in Dick-Talon and he felt himself push back against the grip on his neck. Talon shushed him as whispers of a whimper escaped his throat. He found himself shaking his head but Talon kept him moving forward. Dic-Talon felt himself lock up and freeze as Talon forced him into the chair. The moment his butt hit the seat, he made to push himself up but stopped when Grandmaster placed a gentle hand on his chest; keeping him in place.
"Be still, Talon. All will be well. You will be given a gift today, a gift of remembrance"
D-Talon felt his throat close up but nodded at Grandmaster's words.
Talon disappeared while Grandmaster held his gaze. Grandmaster was an older man to the point where all his hair had gone grey and white. He had thick full hair and a well-trimmed but bushy beard that swerved around every word. Dick felt his bottom lip quiver but Grandmaster only smiled endearingly at him. Talon wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not. Grandmaster smiled when he was in pain, but smiles should not mean hurt or pain. D-Talon wasn't sure anymore, maybe this is what Grandmaster meant by his effort and resistance being pointless?
Talon returned with someone but when Talon went to peer at the newcomer Grandmaster reached out and grasped his chin firmly; tsking at him when he whined and tried to look around the older man.
Di-Talon knew he was taller than Talon and barely taller than Grandmaster but he never felt smaller than when he was being touched by either of them.
The new person came around on Dick's side but he knew he was supposed to keep his gaze on Grandmaster. He strained to make out the new man in his peripheral. He seemed to be on the shorter side and wore all black, he had a black bag with him and was walking as if he was unbothered by Talon's and Grandmaster's presence. Without kneeling before them or presenting himself, the man bent to start pulling rolled-up equipment from the bag. Talon could hear the clanking of plastic and metal bits along with the humming of some portable small generator or energy pack. Was that a buzzing? Grandmaster smiled at Talon's furrowed brow, most likely amused by his Grandon's confusion as he tried to figure out who and what was happening.
"Do not trouble yourself with all this worrying, my boy. All will be well. Do not burden yourself with thoughts of fear or worry. I would never let such a prize be broken or tarnished beyond repair" Grandmaster started to run his thumb along the hard line of Talon's jaw while giving him a warm smile.
Suddenly, Dic-Talon's focus was broken as the man stepped forward to his side. Without saying a word the two men nodded to each other and Grandmaster began strapping Dick-Talon's arms and feet down. Talons was used to this kind of preparation in training or pain tolerance but his pulse skyrocketed when Grandmaster strapped down his throat and the very top of his head to the chair as well.
Talon couldn't help the heavy and uneven puffs of air that escaped his mouth as a loud constant buzzing began somewhere out of sight. The new man stepped up to Dick's side and tightened the straps on his head so he was facing away from the man.
"Mmm" Dick tried but cut himself off at Talon's disapproving look behind Grandmaster's shoulder.
"He seems to have a problem not holding his tongue" the man replied absent-mindedly.
Grandmaster smiled indulgently at Talon while he answered the newcomer, "It is quite an endearing trait that unfortunately has no place in our line of work"
The man dragged a wet towel over his head before suddenly sliding something cold through about half of his hair. As the man continued, Talon felt cold wet air hit his skin in a way he'd never felt on his scalp and realized the man was shaving his head.
After a couple of minutes of his, the man pressed a thin piece of paper against his scalp and let it sit before peeling it off and looking to Grandmaster for approval.
Grandmaster nodded once, firmly. "That will do nicely," he said simply.
The man nodded before presenting something else for Grandmaster's approval. Talon strained his eyes to the point of pain for a glimpse at what the men were looking over.
"I want this blue to be deeper," Grandmaster said after a moment. The man grunted in acknowledgment.
Grandmaster turned back to Dic-Talon and ran the backs of his fingers up and down his cheek once, "Remember my boy, everything I do, I do for you. You are an extension of me and the Court's will. I do not want you to suffer, so you will take this order and not allow the pain to touch you. You will fail but I want you to try your hardest to block it out, alright?"
Dick didn't know what to do. Grandmaster had just told him he would be in pain but that he had to not be?
Dick's eyes were wide and his breathing was erratic and frantic now, his breaths resisting the leather straps holding him down.
Grandmaster nodded to the man behind Dick and Dick felt fingers and some plastic touch a point on his head. Then all Talon knew was pain.
Dick dropped his fingers suddenly, reminding himself that reliving it now wouldn't do any good. He remembered and that was all that mattered.
Suddenly, a knock sounded on the bathroom door, throwing his heart into the enter of his throat.
"Dick? Are you ready?" Alfred called a cab and everyone is downstairs" Bruce's voice came through the door
Dick cleared his throat as he willed his chest to stop falling out of his ribcage, "Ye-" he tried again and dropped his tone down an octave, "Yea, Bruce, I'll be down soon"
"Alright", and then Dick heard Bruce's heavy footfalls as he made his way down the hall and downstairs.
This is the one right Dami? Dicked asked as they perused Michael's. Luckily it was at the far end of the mall so most people were only there if they actually wanted something specific. Bruce had suggested he just pay to buy out each store to check them out.
"Don't be rash Richard, there are only 4 additional brushes in that set" Damian scoffed. He pointed to his right, "This one has 6". He examined the watercolor box set before murmuring, "But This one is more expensive"
Dick smiled and fell quiet as he humored Damian. He wasn't spoiled in the traditional sense but Damian had never had to worry about money in his entire life. With Talia or with Bruce, his basic needs and whimsical desires were always met.
Dick looked around to see Bruce tapping away on his phone while Jason and Tim meandered around, waiting for the next store.
They were going to a tech store next because Tim wanted a new Rtx card for his gaming pc. Their group had already stopped off at a sneaker store for Jason and Dick was picking up little nicknacks wherever they went.
"This one" Damian announced. Dick turned around to see Damian had picked the pricier one with more color options and starter brushes.
Dick smiled and they made their way to the counter. He saw a tray of chocolate Lindor balls next to the cashier and he plopped down 2 next to Damian's watercolors. Bruce met them at the counter and paid with his premium black card before they all made their way out and down to the first level. The tech store was in the front of the mall but it was also their last stop, Dick would just hang around the back as Tim usually got noticed in this store.
As they made their way down the mall Dick felt eyes on him in a way that made his inner Nightwing tense. Dick almost stumbled to a stop but forced himself to keep walking. Bruce and Jason noticed the change in his walking and shot him a glance.
"What's up Dickhead?"
Dick looked over his shoulder nonchalantly before letting his gaze drag to the path before him. He tried to search the upper open railings of the second floor as well but no one stood out to Dick.
Dick shrugged and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
"I dunno maybe I'm getting hangry" he suggested lightly.
Bruce grunted before the oblivious Damian encouraged them towards Wetzel pretzels. Dick chose their sugary cinnamon bites but that only seemed to upset his stomach as a nauseous pestering feeling ate away at him. Like he'd forgotten something important and was being stared at by the authorities until he remembered.
Dick took another look around him as they approached the store and Tim took the lead.
"Seriously Dickie, what's up?" Jason asked as he and Bruce fell back with Dick.
Dick realized how unsettled he was making Bruce and Jason for just a small little outing and shook his head, trying to cover up the embarrassment heating his cheeks.
"Nothing! Seriously guys I think it's just being out and everything you know? Maybe I exhausted my social meter haha"
Dick politely shouldered past Bruce and into the store. Once inside he made his way to the back and picked a motherboard box to start reading the back of like he was actually interested. After a few minutes of being in the back of the new store. The niggling feeling eating at his senses seemed to fade a bit and Dick forced himself to take deep breaths and relax, stretching his neck and shoulder muscles until he was sure he wouldn't pull something just from being too tightly strung.
Bruce shared a look with Jason and Dick made his way past them. Jason shrugged as he looked behind himself to see if anyone was following them. It was obvious Dick was bothered and not being totally honest with them. The social meter excuse was always Tim's excuse when he was over hanging with someone, not Dick's.
Jason made his way into the store at some point but Bruce stayed outside, pulling up his phone so his roaming eyes wouldn't be too obvious.
Bruce noted a few different couples and only 1 with a child. There was a group of teens who were chatting loudly as they checked out every store without buying anything.
Bruce peered up to the second floor around them through the see-through railing to see another couple and a child eating something from the food court. An older man next to them was sitting alone with a cane and newspaper and opposite of them was a single woman walking fast enough for everyone to hear her clacking heels.
Nothing that set off his senses. Maybe it was just Dick adjusting to everything again. No, something must be seriously bothering Dick because this was their 30th informal outing as a group since Bruce had permitted Dick more freedom.
He made a mental note to mention it to Leslie for her next session with Dick.
Leslie had suggested she start decreasing her sessions to every other week and have Canary come in for informal de-stress talks once a month. Bruce had said he'd give it some thought, he'd lied but Canary was very adamant that she wanted to be a prominent source of support for Dick. And since she and the team knew almost everything now, there were more advantages than disadvantages to letting her into his therapy sessions.
Leslie had also pointed out that Dick's progress had progressed more internally and there wasn't much that she was doing for him besides being there to talk each week if he wanted to open up. She said that he didn't need hand-holding just to function anymore and that from here on out she would only be a guiding hand for him.
He saw Tim making his way to the counter with a handful of expressive boxes while Dick threw rgb lights and chocolate into the pile as well. Bruce put his phone away and made his way inside to meet them and pay. Alfred was supposed to meet them at the front of the mall after they parted at Michele's so he could do some of his own personal shopping. He never liked to drag the boys around for his own errands. Treating them differently than the necessities of the boys and Bruce's but he allowed Alfred whatever he preferred.
After this, they would meet up with Alfred and take a cab or Uber back to the Manor and settle down before dinner. Bruce considered suggesting they go out for food so Alfred didn't have to prepare anything but would keep an eye on Dick to make sure he was truly ok for more public interactions.
He smiled as he watched the boy stumble for a second, his smooth walk broken by a second of hesitation. It was obvious the young man was conflicted between wanting to put on a false show of confidence for his family and wanting to investigate whatever had set off his finely tuned senses.
He scoffed, even the Bat hadn't felt the weight of his eyes. No, only his Grandson had. His most prized possession.
A finely tuned weapon.
A well-oiled servant.
The most potent source of potential he'd seen in a long time.
The only truly successful experiment.
The positive attributes of the boy could be written into a short novel.
Overall. He was pleased to see that a year or 2 away from the court hadn't smothered or tarnished his instincts too demurely. Nothing that could not be fine-tuned and reworked when the boy returned.
This may result in a further advantage for the court as well in the end, the man mused. After all, the boy's fire and determination were one of his key attributes, no one was able to beat the character out of him quite so well the first time around. Maybe this time with his family will allow him to maintain that fire while reminding him of why it is prudent to submit to his betters.
The boy needed a guiding hand that is for certain. The bat had no idea how to raise a boy to a man, much less one with so much feral untapped potential. The mercenary had seen it, which was most likely why their partnership had lasted so long. It was probably why the man was also too adamant that his claim over the child held more precedents than the court's. Something they would also have to rectify soon.
No worries, he stood up as he watched the man and his wards make their way out of the electronic store, hands full of useless trivial bags and spent money.
No worries, he reassured himself.
Their prodigal son would return soon. His hands were too bloody to stay clean long, even though no one could see the blood now, it was there, seeping into every white button-down he wore.