Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He remembered just as they pulled up in front of Damian’s school that he and Roy had planned to pick up their kids together today. They’d wanted to break the news to them that they were thinking of dating, see how Lian and Damian would react to it and go from there. Roy didn’t think Lian would mind—she liked having Dick around, was used to him being considered family and was used to the concept of family being a very flexible word—and Dick didn’t want Damian to think that this was yet another change that he was going to be forced to deal with. Neither of them expected the kids to say no outright, but it was something they both felt better actually addressing.

Unlike all the excuses Dinah and Ollie kept making about why Hal shared their bed for half my childhood , Roy had said, and Dick had snorted and added in a story about the time Bruce had told him Selina would stay over for two player board games in his room.

Now he parked the car and waited. He hadn’t even meant to be home today—he was supposed to be teaching, one of his private sessions, and it’d been cancelled at the very last minute. He was still decked out in his trackpants and the t-shirt with the gym logo.

“I’m going to get him,” Dick said, which wasn’t something he usually did because he liked letting Damian say goodbye to his friends without butting in. “Stay here.”

The walk to Damian’s classroom wasn’t even that long, but Dick tried to go slow. He pulled out his phone and paused at the very top of his emergency contact list, hoping Roy would pick up.

He answered before it’d even began ringing. “Hey, you here yet? It’s gonna be impossible to find a spot to park even if we leave now—hang on, I’m just coming out—”

“Roy,” Dick interrupted him, and he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. “No, I’m not—I’m at the school. I’ll pick up Lian and drop her home. I’m sorry, it’s… Tim showed up.”

There was silence from the other end of the phone. “ Tim showed up?” Roy repeated, and Dick could hear how carefully he was choosing his words.

“He… he told me Bruce is alive.” Dick had to stop walking, had to stand there in the middle of the walkway and just squeeze his eyes shut. “Roy, he has evidence . I even called Alfred and he confirmed it.”

Roy whistled, a low, distant sound. “I’m… happy for you,” he said. “Bring Lian home. We’ll talk then.” And with that, he hung up.

Dick stood there for a moment longer, staring at the phone in his hand. He knew what was going through Roy’s head—Bruce had, miraculously, returned from the dead just as they’d tentatively started to date. He thought Dick was going to go back to Gotham now, and the trouble with it was… Dick wasn’t so sure he wasn’t .

“Richard,” Damian said, clearly surprised. He looked utterly adorable, his bag strapped onto his bag and his little bucket hat on his head. “You’re… early.”

“Hey, kiddo, how was school?” Dick hugged Damian to his side as they stood outside the classroom waiting for Lian.

“Adequate,” Damian said, but his eyes were searching Dick’s face. “Is everything alright?” Dick hesitated, then glanced at the door. “She’s speaking with her friends about the sleepover.”

Dick nodded, and pulled Damian a little bit away from where the other parents were standing. “I don’t know how to break this to you. I think I should start by saying that… everything’s okay. No one’s hurt, or dying. In fact… it’s the opposite this time, really.” He took in the way Damian’s face was looking—blank, just as unreadable as it’d been when he’d first arrived on Bruce’s doorstep, having just lost the only family he’d ever known. He was holding himself like he was about to face a blow. “Tim came to visit us. He says… he says Bruce is alive. And he has evidence to back up his claims. I spoke to Alfred as well.”

This was clearly not what Damian had expected. “What?” he said.

“It’s a long story. Shortest way I can put it is that the explosion took out the wrong person—his business partner, or someone—and he was rescued by a couple who took him to a local hospital. He’s been in a coma for a while, and even when he woke up he couldn’t really remember much. He’s gotten better now, from what I hear.”

Damian took all of this in, eyes scouring every inch of Dick’s face to detect any falsehood. “This isn’t a prank,” he said finally. “You’re serious.”

Dick nodded. “It’s a lot to take in,” he said. “We’re going to drop Lian off at Roy’s place, so Tim can fill us all in in one go.”

“We’ll have to leave again, won’t we,” Damian murmured, turning around to watch the door for Lian. “Go back to Gotham?”

Dick hesitated. “I don’t know, kiddo,” he said honestly. “But we’ll have to go see him. He’ll want to see you. See us. Your break is coming up, too, so you won’t miss too much of school.”

The pangs of loss were already going through Dick’s body unlike ever before. He was used to uprooting himself and moving, and even relished in it. But this time, it was different. He would be leaving behind far too much, and the thought of going back to his old life in Bludhaven was excruciating.

Bruce is alive , his mind told him, shaking his shoulders. What kind of a son feels like this when his father is found alive?

Lian had blinked a little at seeing Tim in the car, but taken it in stride. She was so used to meeting new uncles and aunts that Dick’s side of the family expanding probably felt normal to her. It certainly didn’t stop her from chattering away like she normally did, though Damian was sullen and quiet beside her.

“…all the other girls said there’d be endless popcorn , but I didn’t believe them,” Lian was saying.

Dick had only partly been paying attention, but his mind picked up when she paused for him to ask questions. “Mm? Why not? Isn’t endless food a sleepover must? ”

Lian, predictably, gave a little huff and crossed her arms, shaking her head exaggeratedly. “No, Uncle Dick! Maisie’s parents are super healthy, so we’re only allowed uncooked popcorn.”

Dick blinked. “Uncooked—”

“That’s just corn ,” Damian muttered. “Just sneak into the kitchen and put it in the microwave.”

“Uh, Lian, do not do that—it’s only kernels that make popcorn—and Dami, what? Who told you you could do that?”

Damian shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now,” he said, glaring out the window.

Tim, who’d been tapping away on his phone beside Dick this whole time, rolled his eyes and gave Dick a knowing look. Dick looked away, back to the road, and was thankful that Roy’s house was coming up soon.

From experience, he stood on Lian’s side of the door to make sure she wouldn’t go running out onto the street. Tim got out of the car and stood awkwardly, looking around the neighbourhood, while Damian started off towards the house.

Dick took it in, the little flowerbeds that Roy had gotten from Dinah, the bike half on its side out front, the massive apple tree that shaded the front room from the summer sun. He’d spent so many nights here, this last year or so. He didn’t know if he would’ve gotten through any of it without Roy, without the comfort of the knitted blankets in his living room or the warm drinks he’d shove into Dick’s hand.

And then, seeing Tim’s impatient tapping of his feet, the way he was practically bouncing with energy, he relented, and stepped forward.

Damian had long gone inside, disappearing probably into the kitchen. Lian tossed her bag by her shoes at the door, and Dick, with fond exasperation, grabbed it as he took off his own. Tim followed suit, glancing around the place curiously.

Dick wondered what he was seeing, when he looked around the place. When he looked at the framed photos of Dick and Damian with Roy’s family, did he see the happiness that exuded from their faces, or did he see his brothers lost in the fray, away from their own family? And when he saw the familiarity with which Damian interacted with Roy and Lian, did he think about how timid and stiff he’d been at the Manor? Dick wished he knew.

Roy was slicing up fruit in the kitchen. With their socked feet on the hardwood floors, he hadn’t heard them yet. Dick stood there for a moment, watching Roy’s back, watching how Damian and Lian scuttled around the kitchen grabbing plates, taking out juice from the fridge and getting glasses. Lian yanked Damian over to the cupboard with all the guest plates, instructing him to hoist her up so she could grab what she needed.

Tim nudged him, giving him a questioning look, and Dick nodded to him. This… well, this wasn’t fair to Tim, to not do this as efficiently as possible. He was only here for the two of them, had wanted to break this news in person, when he probably had mountains of work piling up for him back in Gotham.

“Hey,” Dick said, clearing his throat. He didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Roy stilled, and then resumed slicing the fruit, placing them evenly on Damian and Lian’s plates. “Good, you’re here,” he said, voice cheerful. Turning around, he glanced at Tim. “Hey, Tim. Nice to see you here.”

“Hey, Roy,” Tim responded, lifting a hand to wave awkwardly.

“You want fruit? Juice? Got tea as well.”

“No, I’m okay. Dick took care of the hosting, so you’re all good.”

Dick snorted. “You raided my kitchen. Can’t really call that hosting .”

Tim shrugged. “Hey, I come over and eat your food. Doesn’t matter if you’re serving it.”

Roy watched them carefully, carrying over the plates carefully stacked on his prosthetic arm. He placed them down in front of Damian and Lian. Dick would normally be in there with them, chatting to the kids about their day, quizzing them on homework they might need help with. Now, he went to get himself a glass of water, just to have something to hold while his whole life turned upside down.

Roy seemed to realise that he’d have to be the one to take the reins in this situation. “So, what’s up?” And when Tim glanced over at the kids—Damian who was glowering into his sliced apples and oranges, and Lian who had was showing Damian her orange peel smile—he waved a hand and added, “You can say it in front of them. Just no bad words.”

“Uh, yeah, okay.” Tim obviously hadn’t expected this, but he took it in stride. He took out his briefcase and opened it on the kitchen table, drawing Lian and Damian’s attentions immediately.

Roy made eye contact with Dick, raising an eyebrow, saying, is he for real? Dick hid a smile, shrugging with one shoulder.  

Tim launched into the same explanation he’d given Dick, though he didn’t show most of the papers he’d brought with him to Damian and Lian. He did, however, hesitantly give Damian a photo, a recent one apparently, taken in Gotham of Bruce. Damian held it for a long time, staring at it even as Lian fought to see it as well.

“So,” Roy said eventually. “What now?”

He didn’t look at Dick when he said it, but Dick felt them directed at him regardless. Tim glanced between the two of them, clearly trying to figure out what they were to each other. Dick hoped he’d tell him when Tim figured it out, because right now, he had no idea.

“Roy, can I talk to you?” Dick said, jerking his head towards the bedroom.

Roy met his eyes and nodded, nabbing a slice of apple as he headed inside. Dick went to follow, and then paused. “Lian, Dami, I know a lot’s happened, but I still expect you to finish your homework after snacks, like usual, okay?”

Lian raised a hand. “Uncle Dick, since we’d technically be at school now on lunch break, does that mean we miss out on playing?”

Dick raised an eyebrow at her. “It means you’ll have more playtime this afternoon, ‘cause of the classes you’re missing. And you don’t want Damian to start without you, right?”

“I’m faster anyway,” Lian said, smug smile at her… at Damian.

“You have less work than me! Of course you’re faster.”

Dick let the sound of their squabbling follow him into the bedroom. He stood on the threshold for a second, and then decided this was a closed-door conversation. Roy was standing by the window, looking out at the garden. Dick joined him there.

They were quiet for a moment. Dick didn’t know what to say. “Look, Roy, I’m sorry—"

Roy turned to him, frowning. “Sorry? What for?”

Dick shrugged. “This, all of this? For starting something with you and then having to run off the moment we actually get somewhere?”

He got an incredulous look in return. “Dick, your dad is alive . That’s—that’s not something to be sorry for. All those regrets you said you have, all the stuff you wish you could say to him, do with him? You get that now. That’s a fucking miracle, is what it is. No matter what you decide to do, you have us. Okay?”

Dick looked at him for a moment, and nodded. “Okay. And… we haven’t decided. I know I need to go to Gotham to see him—god knows Tim’s raring to go—but after that, I have no idea. Like who even gets custody of Damian now that Bruce is alive?”

That was the other thing plaguing him, lurking in the back of his head. It lingered in the same place that called him things like selfish and ungrateful and bad son . Because if Dick were honest to himself, he’d say that Damian belonged with him , that he’d brought that kid out of his shell and into a somewhat stable life. That he’d done more for Damian’s emotional wellbeing in the time they’d had together than Bruce, with his wealth and experience of raising four children, hadn’t been able to do. But it didn’t matter how Dick felt, because if Damian wanted to go with Bruce, he’d let him go. And if Bruce put up a fight, there was no way Dick could win that.

“Hey, go to Gotham, talk to Bruce, see what’s going on. You’ve just got Tim and his briefcase filling you in on all this. You can’t make a decision based on that. And,” here Roy looked away, “if it comes to it, I know Ollie and Dinah, they’ll vouch for you. For custody.”

Dick didn’t know why this came as a surprise to him, but he had no idea what to say. In the end, he merely nodded. Roy didn’t say anything after that, and Dick didn’t know what else he could say, or if he was expected to say something. If Roy was expecting him to bring up their date, the now cancelled one.

“We should get back out there,” Roy said, already heading towards the door. “Who knows what they’ve gotten up to.”

Damian and Lian were typically good kids, but Dick didn’t really know where Tim fit into that equation. Or rather, he would’ve felt far more comfortable leaving Tim alone with just Lian, but throwing Damian into the mix was a terrifying idea, with how terribly the two of them had gotten along before.

But when he stepped back into the kitchen, the kids had homework out in front of them, Lian scribbling away some practise spelling words and Damian… staring unseeingly at his. Tim wasn’t in the room.

Roy tugged on Dick’s hand to get his attention. “If you two need to chat alone, then my room’s fine. Less chance of him feeling like Tim’s gonna overhear or something.”

Dick glanced around again to see where Tim had gotten to, and finally spotted the open front door. “Yeah, we’ll do that.”

Today was just full of difficult conversations. But Damian didn’t seem to really have much to say. He’d barely look at Dick, sitting on the edge of the bed while Dick crouched in front of him.

“This isn’t a decision,” he said. “We’re just going to see your dad. And then we can go from there.”

Damian glanced up, and nodded once. “Yes,” he said quietly.

Dick had honestly expected more questions, more attitude. Even anger would be welcome as opposed to the resigned acceptance. “Uh, do you want to talk to Alfred? Tim put me through to him—he said that we might be able to talk to Bruce, if we catch them at a good time?”

Damian shook his head. “I can speak with them in person,” he said, staring down at his hands. “We leave today?”

Normally, Dick would’ve waited for the weekend. They probably weren’t going to be able to get flights tonight, as it was. But Tim was very insistent, filled with a manic energy that Dick recognised from years ago. He didn’t hold it against his brother, because he knew what it was like to want to hold your family together, to think that this was going to be the way to do it, and that your siblings or your parent just couldn’t see it. That they would thank you afterwards, when they realised.

It was probably the first time that someone else had tried to fix them, instead of it being Dick. Alfred brought them together, but he didn’t go out of his way to convince them.

“I think so, bud,” he said. “I’ve packed some of your clothes, but if there’s something you’d prefer to take with you—”

At this, Damian’s head jerked up. “Are we not—if we leave things behind, will we come back for them?”

“Of course we will!” Dick wasn’t going to promise absolutely everything, but even from a logistical point of view, he, at least, would have to return to the house to get it ready for re-renting.

There was a rap at the door. “Hey, you guys done in here?” It was Tim. “Like, not to rush you or anything, but if we’re gonna drive back to Gotham, we should get started as soon as we can, y’know?”

“Give us a minute, Tim,” Dick called, eyes on Damian.

“It’s fine,” Damian said, getting up and opening the door. “Like he said, we should go.”

Dick sighed, following after him. It was clear that Damian didn’t believe him, when he said that they’d be returning, or when he said that this wasn’t concrete yet. But Dick didn’t have a way of convincing him otherwise.

“Hey, you guys aren’t seriously thinking of driving back, right?” Roy said. “Try flights from Portland, at least. It’ll save you time.”

“Convince this one,” Tim said with a jerk of his head towards Dick. Roy gave him a disbelieving look.

Dick didn’t know how to say that he’d only vetoed flights because he’d thought it’d buy them more time. “Fine. Portland’s like a few hours from here; if you find flights for tonight that we can reasonably make, we should do that instead.”

Tim began tapping away on his phone immediately. Dick left him to it. He turned to Roy instead, opening his mouth to say goodbye. But no words came out.

Lian took pity on them. “You’ll be back soon, right, Uncle Dick?”

“Yeah, peanut, we’re just gone for a few days, to check up on our dad.” Dick ignored the glance Tim gave him before he turned back to his phone. “You’ll barely have time to miss us.”

“We should have a sleepover when you come back!” she said. “Damian?”

Damian didn’t say anything, staring fixatedly outside, backpack on. Dick turned to Lian, and whispered, “It’ll be a surprise, okay? You enjoy yourself with your friends tonight and take notes for what we should do when it’s our turn.”

Lian nodded eagerly, though she still cast concerned looks to Damian.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out. Lian, you’ve still got a few left to finish, and then we gotta get your things packed, remember?”

Tim skipped ahead, Dick steering him away from bumping into a wall. Damian followed suit, dragging his feet along. Dick thought he understood how that felt, to be so young and feel like you had no control over your life.

He unlocked the car and watched Tim climb into the passenger seat, still scrolling through what was probably airline websites. Damian lingered, glancing at Roy.

“I’ll let you two say goodbye,” Dick said. “Roy, I’ll… see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, drive safe, Robbie,” Roy said, forcing a smile.

Dick didn’t stay around eavesdropping on the two of them. He watched from the car as Roy wrapped Damian up in a hug, crouching down to say something to him. Whatever it was, Damian nodded, looking far more light-hearted than he had ever since Dick had broken the news to him.

Tim cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, if we make it to Portland by seven, we can catch a flight to Gotham?”

Dick did the mental calculation, wincing a little. “It’ll be tight,” he allowed. That’d give them roughly an hour—probably a little less, if he was honest—to get on the road. There’d probably be traffic, which wouldn’t help things… “There’s nothing later, at eight or nine?”

Tim shook his head. “Not for three,” he said.

If Dick was braver, if Dick had more than a few hours or preparation to get his feet under him, then he might’ve had the guts to tell Tim to book himself those tickets, and that Dick and Damian would be coming later, maybe over the weekend. The thought of having to make all the phone calls that were required to organise someone to either take over his classes at the gym—or to cancel them outright if there no one was available—and to let the youth centre know he wouldn’t be able to come in for at least a few days… not to mention Damian’s school. He felt a migraine coming on at the mere thought of it all.

“Fine, book them,” he said instead, just as Damian slid into the car. “Buckled in, kiddo?”

Damian nodded, making eye contact with Dick in the rearview mirror. Dick tried to smile at him, but Damian looked away, back out the window where Lian was going from flower pot to flower pot, loudly exclaiming her findings to her father. Dick raised a hand to say goodbye to Roy, who returned it. His last view was of Lian turned around and waving frantically, so fast her hand was a blur.

The rest of the drive was utterly quiet. Normally Dick would try to engage Damian in conversation, asking about his day at school or whatever extracurricular he’d come from. Sometimes they’d lapse into a comfortable silence; Dick liked that he now knew the differences between a sullenly quiet Damian, and a contently quiet Damian, and all the other things in between.

He liked that he’d come to see a happy Damian more and more as their roots here grew. Sneaking another glance at him now, it was like all that effort had been wiped away by this one day.

The streets were a little busier as Dick pulled up to their apartment, having no issues finding parking. He tossed the keys to Damian, wanting him to have a little bit of time to himself. Damian caught them and grabbed his backpack, running into the building.

“You guys won’t take long, right?” Tim said. “I can wait out here.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair. “You sure?”

Tim shrugged. “I’ll probably only get in the way. Shout if you need help with bags—or call, I guess.”

“Will do.” This hadn’t been how Dick had envisioned having a family member over for the first time. He hadn’t really dared dream of having Tim over, but he’d wanted… it would’ve been nice, to have cleaned up the house and gotten food prepared, and had the anticipation of having a house guest. They could’ve gone to Sherwood Florist—maybe he would’ve texted the group chat he was in with Roy and all of Roy’s siblings, to see if any of them could make time to catch up together, what with being old friends with Tim. It… it would’ve been nice. It would’ve been a good way to get Damian to become more comfortable with his family.

He jogged up to their floor; the door was unlocked and waiting for Dick. But the inside of the house was quiet.

“Dami?” Dick called, taking off his shoes. “You need any help?” Dick would probably have to start making his calls soon, but he’d be able to multitask. There was a bunch of his clothes at both the Manor and the penthouse—it wouldn’t really hurt for him to not take much, considering Alfred wasn’t the type to throw stuff away.

He poked his head into Damian’s room, and his chest clenched at the sight of him standing in front of his desk, staring at the wall of blu-tacked art he’d created.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to take any of that down. Just clothes, maybe a book or drawing pad for the drive.”

“My old nurse said the same thing,” Damian said stiffly, not looking at him, “when she sent me to my father. She told me I’d be able to come back and take more of my things, but I didn’t. And by the time Father sent back word for them, she was already gone.”

From what Dick knew, Damian had been living with his grandfather and mother when they’d both been killed in a car accident. The household had had a nanny—who’d doubled as his grandfather’s nurse—and she’d taken care of him while they contacted Bruce, from some notes that either his mother or grandfather had had about Damian’s father. They hadn’t known who Bruce was, just that he was American and of considerable wealth.

“That’s not going to happen this time,” Dick promised. “Even if it’s hard for you to believe my word, believe in the fact that I gotta pay the rent, and definitely don’t have the kind of money to not clean it up even if we end up having to move.”

Damian shrugged. “My father has the money,” he said.

“Damian, you think we’d be living here if I touched Bruce’s money? All I use it for is—” He realised where this was going, and let out a heavy breath, sinking to Damian’s bed and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Does it make you feel better if I promise I’ll personally pack them up if we need to?”

Damian looked at him for a moment, and Dick wondered if this moment was what these last couple years had been leading to, if this was a test of his and Damian’s bond. He held his breath, and waited.

Damian nodded. “Alright,” he said, meeting Dick’s eyes. “I trust you.”

Lian was definitely picking up on the fact that Roy was not okay, and that it had something to do with Dick. She was frowning and quiet as she packed her things for the sleepover, grabbing her favourite pillow that Connor had crocheted for her, and her dinosaur water bottle.

“You want to take Little John?” Roy asked, waving the stuffed bear she couldn’t sleep without. Ollie and Connor had both helped with making it accessories, all woollen—it currently had a little green hat, with a feather in it, bright purple shoes with glittery stars, and a quiver strapped to its back that held arrows. Mia’s first—and last—attempt at crocheting had resulted in a wonky little vest cardigan thing, with a button bigger than the bear’s face holding it together. Lian had loved it the moment she’d laid eyes on the damn thing.

But now, she shook her head. “No, he’d prefer to stay here,” she said primly, not looking at Roy.

Roy frowned at that. “You sure? What if he gets lonely and can’t sleep by himself?”

“Then you can sleep with him, Daddy.”

Roy wondered if this was an attempt at making Roy feel better, or because she didn’t want to bring a stuffed toy to the sleepover. “Hey, you remember our deal, right? If you have any issues, text me—or Mia, if you can’t get me—and one of us will fake an emergency and come get you, okay?”

“Yeah, I know ,” Lian said, but she seemed considerably more bouncy afterwards.

Roy smiled, messing with her hair, and went to find something to stress bake in the kitchen. They still had a couple hours before he’d need to drop Lian off; surely they had something in the cupboards that was children appropriate and wouldn’t earn him glares by the parents of the hosting house.  

He wished he had a secret emergency code he could use to get a parent rescue. Because Roy’s mind couldn’t stop going over the fact that this night was supposed to be his and Dick’s first date (second first date, really). He’d had a whole night planned out, multiple contingencies in case Dick preferred one over the other. All to show him a good time, to take his mind off the fact that he was a single parent working most of the week away.

It was perhaps uncharitable of Roy to blame this all on Bruce, but hell, Roy didn’t about being nice when it came to Dick’s adoptive father. The circumstances surrounding their first break-up couldn’t really be blamed on any one thing, but Dick’s side of things definitely fell heavily on Bruce, and Dick’s endless loyalty to him, even when it seemed like it cost him more than any father-son relationship should.

Their relationship, Roy reflected, was like two orbiting stars, always circling, never coming into contact. It’d always been wrong place, wrong time, except for that one shining summer where they’d both been single, both just daring enough. But it felt like whenever they tried, whenever Roy got too close, Bruce would show up. The comedy and drama of this whole thing, the fact that he’d returned from the dead just in time to stop Dick from going out with Roy, wasn’t lost on him.

Lian had only been at her friend’s place for about an hour or so when Roy’s phone rang. Roy hadn’t even been doing much—he’d dropped Lian off, driven around the town aimlessly for a little while, and then gotten himself takeaway, as a treat for dealing with the events of the day. And to make up for the fact that he wouldn’t be having dinner with Dick.

The TV made for a poor substitute, but Roy would have to get used to quiet nights at home while Lian was out with friends. Maybe he should get a pet, like a dog or something.

He’d just finished fixing up the leaky tap. Barely avoiding hitting his head as he got out from under the sink, Roy reached blindly on the countertop for where his phone was vibrating.

It was a text from Lian. Or rather, a whole heap of texts. A barrage of messages reading SOS!!! and daddy can u pick me up and now??? like rn before finally please .

Roy was moving before he’d even registered all the texts, replying with a hasty omw be there in seven. Lian knew how long it took for them to get to her friend’s place, but the reassurance would make her feel better. It’d only been three minutes since she’d sent the first message; she wouldn’t have tried contacting someone else yet.

It was drizzling outside, which perfectly matched Roy’s mood. He hadn’t even noticed the weather, the rain not loud enough to be audible, especially with the music Roy had had playing as he’d worked. Hell, he would’ve barely noticed it getting dark had it not gotten increasingly harder to see under the sink.

He’d been far too wrapped up in his thoughts tonight, but having Lian home would probably make time go faster. Roy hoped, though, that Lian wasn’t just pulling out of this because she was worried about him—she’d been looking forward to this so much. She was sensitive like that, far too perceptive for someone her age.

Roy had wanted to raise her to be more carefree than he’d been—than his life had been—but he couldn’t blame her for being so attuned to his emotions, not when they’d only had each other for so long. It was times like this when he wished Jade was around more, but it was what it was. He couldn’t begrudge her for living her life, not after everything that had happened.

Roy wouldn’t be able to recall what happened later. He’d just remember seeing the light turn green, and absentmindedly accelerating. The roads were empty—typical for this time of night, in this part of tow—lit only by streetlights shining through the massive trees that lined both sides of the street.

A tremendous crash was the last sound he heard before everything went dark.

Dick preferred to be driving, because when he wasn’t driving, he was thinking, and right now, his mind was going around in circles. Behind him in the backseat, he could see Damian with his legs curled up to his chest, earphones jammed into his ears and sketchbook in his hand. He wasn’t looking out the window.

Dick’s chest clenched. This was temporary, he kept telling himself, but the closer they got to Gotham the less he believed it. He loved Bruce, but… well. There wasn’t really much point in pondering over the intricacies of his and Bruce’s issues now. It was a matter of inevitability more than anything.

“Music?” Tim said around the crunch of chips in his mouth. “We’re making pretty good time, despite this traffic.”

Dick waved his hand towards the CD player. “Go for it,” he said. “And don’t think we’re making good time ‘cause of your shitty driving. The traffic’s just decent, for once.”

It was as though the roads had decided to give him a pass; Dick didn’t consider himself to have road rage, but even the most peaceful of drivers would become murderous if they saw the peak hour traffic here.

But this meant that after a few minutes, when the roads cleared up even more, there wasn’t enough happening on the road for him to be distracted anymore. “Put something else on,” he told Tim. “You still listen to those crime podcasts?”

Tim looked at him in shock. “ You want to listen to my crime podcasts? What was it you said about them—they’re,” he gestured with his hand, “the fakest most sensationalised piece of—”

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” Dick said, fighting back a grin. “That’s because they are —”

“You ass—”

The car swerved madly.

“ Tim, I’m driving— fucking—hands! Quit it!”

“That’s what you deserve .” Tim shook his head, though he was smiling too. “And here I thought suburban life had finally made you see the light.”

Dick snorted. “What light? The light at the end of your shitty podcast taste?”

“ You brought this up!” Tim squawked. “ You wanted me to put on something from my podcast collection .”

“Yeah, I still do.”

Tim’s feet were pulled up to his chest, and now he’d turned around to somewhat face Dick, which meant he was sitting with his back in the corner between the seat and the door. “You’re just gonna poke holes in them the entire time.”

“If it’s a true crime podcast and there’re holes to be poked through, then it makes it a pretty bad true crime podcast.”

Dick glanced in the rearview mirror, just to see how Damian was faring, but Damian was looking at him as though he’d never seen Dick before in his life. Dick cleared his throat, not knowing how to address any of this. He’d grown up with Tim more than any other sibling—he was comfortable with poking fun at Tim and vice versa in a way that hadn’t really happened with any of his other siblings, even Jason, who he’d only seen on very rare occasions, despite going on trips together.

He'd missed Tim.

Dick had thought, after Bruce had died, and the company had gone to Tim, that it’d all work out somehow, because Cass and Tim were close and Cass had the support of her girlfriend, who was friends with Tim even after breaking up. He’d thought it’d work out because Steph and Damian had clicked on the few occasions where Steph (and sometimes Cass) had babysat him.

But it’d gone downhill faster than he could ever plan for, starting with Tim and his theories that now didn’t seem so far fetched.

He couldn’t apologise to his brother, because what else was he supposed to have done? Tim hadn’t had any evidence of Bruce being alive beyond a hunch, despite Dick asking multiple times. And Dick couldn’t go with him and disappear for as long as Tim had. He’d had Damian to think about.

They arrived at the airport, and Dick winced as he realised just how much parking was going to cost him. “How long do we have?”

Tim answered immediately. “Like an hour and a half. We made better time than I expected; we should see what food they have.”

Damian had been getting tenser and tenser as they’d pulled up to the airport. Dick could relate; how many times had the car ride felt fake, like it was a long transit that you might not ever have to leave? How many trips had he spent watching as the miles were eaten up, as the clock ticked closer and closer to the arrival time, always faster than when he was looking forward to it? Everything about Damian made sense when you remembered what it was like to be helpless in a world of adults who didn’t seem to care.

“Everyone grab their luggage,” Dick said. He tried to wrap his arm around Damian’s shoulder and give him a squeeze, but Damian only allowed it for a moment before slipping out of his hold. Tim watched,  and to Dick’s relief he didn’t say anything.

As they were heading inside, his phone buzzed. Dick had different vibration patterns set for different people, because he rarely had his volume turned up. This was one of Roy’s family members.

He pulled it out on instinct, expecting Ollie or Dinah. He frowned a little when he saw Mia’s name.

“Mia?” he said. “Wasn’t expecting your—”

“Dick, where are you?” Mia said quickly, sounding tired to the bone.

“The airport,” he answered, frown deepening. “I don’t know if you’ve spoken to Roy yet, or if he’s told you guys, but—”

“Lian told me,” Mia said. “Or, she said she tried to call you but it didn’t go through, so she called me.”

There was a pit growing in Dick’s stomach the longer she skirted around it. He’d stopped walking; Damian was looking at him with worried eyes, picking up on his half answers and context clues, while Tim was peering curiously, slightly irritated.

“Lian’s supposed to be at a sleepover,” Dick said, swallowing hard. His hands were clenching around the handle of his suitcase.

Mia blew out a long breath. “Okay, gonna just say it. He’s probably going to be fine! Just wanted to put that out there before you freak out, but Roy was in a car accident. It… it was pretty bad, Dick. He was hit by this truck, and like the only thing that saved him was that it hit the passenger side and not him.”

Dick’s ears were ringing, vision going a little fuzzy. He didn’t know what his face was doing, but Damian’s eyes widened, and he jumped forward, grabbing the phone from Dick’s limp hands.

Dick tried to snap himself out of it. She said he’ll be fine , he told himself, because if he focused on the probably he might just go insane. He sucked in a long breath, pulling himself together for Damian and Tim.

“Damian,” Dick said, “let me talk to Mia.”

“What happened?” he heard Tim asked Damian as Dick said, “Mia, hey, it’s me again.”

“Sorry,” Mia said. “I know you’re about to leave, but—”

“What’s—is he going to be okay? You said…”

Mia paused for a moment. “His, um, he’s got a pretty bad concussion, they say. They’re still running tests. But they were mostly worried about the blood loss. He, uh, he lost a lot of blood.”

Dick knew what all of this was code for. He knew that Mia was only trying to be optimistic now, as she told him that Roy would probably be okay .

At the silence, Mia muttered a curse and said, “Fuck, sorry, there’s literally nothing you can do and now I’ve just gone and made you worry about Roy when you’re going away for a bit—”

“Mia, is Lian there? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she wasn’t in the car. She’s the one who called me—she, um, she—” Mia cleared her throat, and then continued in a much quieter voice, “she’s really upset, Dick. She called Roy to pick her up from the sleepover, and I don’t even know what happened at the sleepover to make her do that. She hasn’t really said much, just what I got over the phone when she called, which was like half an hour after she’d called Roy.”

“Can I talk to her?” Dick asked. He saw Tim glancing at Dick, and then at his phone, chewing on his lip. Damian was stock still; the reassuring smile Dick tried to give him seemed to just make him more tense.

There was a shuffle from the other end of the line, and then Lian spoke. “Uncle Dick?” Her voice was subdued, a tone Dick had almost never heard from her.

“Hey, sweetheart, your Aunt Mia told me what happened.” Dick took in a breath, and said, without looking at either of his brothers, “I’m about two hours away, but I’ll be there as soon as I can, alright?”

“Dick!” Tim hissed, but quietened when Dick raised a hand, not wanting to have to ask Lian to repeat her words.

“Really?” Lian said. “But… your dad. You’re like, on a plane right now.”

“Not on a plane yet,” Dick told her. “But we’ll have to drive back, so it’ll be another couple hours. You can be good for Aunt Mia, can’t you? Your dad’s the strongest person I know; there’s no way he’s gonna let some car get to him.”

Damian tapped Dick’s side, gesturing for the phone. Dick, surprised, handed it to him, and then watched in distant pride as Damian walked a few steps away before talking to Lian.

“Dick, what the hell?” Tim said, arms crossed tight against his chest. “Look, I get that you and Roy have something going on, but he has his entire family here to look after his kid! And we’re your family—we need you in Gotham. Bruce needs you in Gotham.”

Dick took a shuddering breath in. There was air of finality to this conversation, like these last couple years, this day, his whole relationship with Roy, had all been leading up to him making this decision. He just wished it hadn’t come to this.

“I’m not gonna never come see Bruce, Timbo,” he said gently. “But Roy’s in bad shape, from what Mia could tell. His kid’s younger than Damian, and she needs all the stability she can get right now. This weekend—it wasn’t the greatest idea anyway. Next time we can plan things out so we’ll have more time to spend in Gotham.”

Tim heard what Dick was saying loud and clear. He jerked his head to the side, blinking rapidly. “I thought Bruce being back was gonna fix everything,” he said quietly. “I thought you’d move back if he was alive.”

Dick let out a breath, reaching out and grabbing Tim’s shoulders, like how he’d used to do, before Tim became the same height as him. “I’m not just here for me,” he said, tilting his head towards where Damian was still speaking on the phone. “Think of it like… like moving away after college with a new job, something normal like that.”

“You moved to New York for that,” Tim muttered, though he leaned forward and wrapped Dick up in a tight hug. “You better come soon.”

“We will,” Dick promised, and he found that he meant it. Now that he’d made a decision, now that he’d had to face the worst, it was easy to realise that the regret he’d have of not staying long enough to see where he and Roy, and Lian and Damian, could all go would end up haunting him. The regret of leaving now, of leaving Lian when her dad might not make it, when the next week or so would be so tumultuous anyway, would never leave him. Now that he’d made a decision, it was easy to fight.

Tim blew out a breath. “So, I didn’t exactly tell anyone I’d be coming here to get you,” he said, almost apologetically. “It was sorta meant to be a surprise. Bruce just keeps talking about you, so I figured I’d win best present ever… Which, not your fault. Just means that I can’t go back to Seattle with you.”

“Yeah, I know, Tim,” Dick said, nudging his shoulder. “And it’s probably not the best time for a guest, either, considering. Hey, I just—before you go—has Bruce mentioned Damian at all?”

Tim looked anywhere but Dick. “I mean, technically, yes,” he said. “He’s… he didn’t have a lot of time to build memories with him before he—the accident, y’know? So that’s probably why he doesn’t really mention him as much.”

Dick sighed. “Yeah.” He signalled to Damian that they were going, and Damian nodded furiously and started talking even quieter on the phone as he headed towards them. “Could you float the idea to Bruce and Alfred about me getting custody? Just so it isn’t as much of a shock when we come visit.”

It probably said a lot—about a lot of things—that Tim didn’t even look surprised, just resigned. “He’s not a bad dad, y’know,” was all he said. “He loves us. He just needs time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dick said, and then Damian was handing him his phone back. “Call me when you land, okay?” He tugged Tim into a hug, which Tim returned, and for a moment it was like Tim was the only sibling Dick had again.

The walk back to the car made Dick feel lighter with each step. Damian was clearly feeling it too, if the shellshocked look of amazement on his face was anything to go by—like he’d very narrowly avoided an oncoming collision with a train.

But it was only when they were about an hour—and five coffees—into the drive back that Dick brought up the topic. “Hey, Dami, uh, I wanted to tell you before you heard from anyone else.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, wishing Damian was still in the backseat so he could glance t his face in the rearview mirror. Right now, Damian faced outside, though his shoulders were tense again. “I know Bruce being back means a lot of things might change for us. If we let them.”

“What’re you talking about, Grayson?” Damian’s voice wasn’t even suspicious. He just sounded tired to the bone, and guilt welled up in Dick.

“I’m saying I want custody. Of you. We—we’d have to come to some sort of arrangement with Bruce, probably. I dunno, depends on what he says, I guess. But we have a life here. And I don’t want to—”

“You mean it?” Damian’s head had snapped around to face him. “You would… even though you didn’t want to?”

“Didn’t want to?” Dick frowned. “Didn’t want to what?”

Damian looked ahead, at the long road in front of them. “My father’s death left you with me. And it was rather clear from the start that you weren’t expecting it, so he clearly hadn’t spoken to you to arrange it.”

“Wh— Damian— okay, I won’t lie, things were a mess at the start. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want you .” Dick ran a hand through his hair, and then reached over to squeeze Damian’s shoulder, other hand on the wheel. “You’re my brother, and I’d do anything for my family. And I understood, the situation you were in. Bouncing from one place to another like that. It wasn’t easy, to learn how to raise a kid. But… I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I wasn’t serious. This last year has been one of the best in my life.”

Damian was quiet for a long time. And then, quietly, he said, “Mine too.”

Dick had—rather foolishly—imagined this to play out like a soap opera. He’d see Roy lying there, surrounded by bouquets and cards and teddy bears, and his eyes would open the moment he sensed Dick’s presence, would know , by Dick being there that Dick loved him, and it’d all be okay.

What happened could not be further from his fantasies.

He called Ollie when they were about half an hour away, because by that point Damian had been in the car for almost five hours and Dick didn’t know when visiting hours would end—if they were even letting visitors in.

Ollie, after about five minutes of passive aggressive remarks, told Dick to drop Damian off at their house, and if he was lucky, he’d make it before they stopped visitors from entering. He hadn’t needed surgery, in the end, though doctors were still keeping him heavily sedated because of the swelling.

Dinah and Mia are with him now, Ollie had said, I only got home an hour ago with Lian. She’s taking this hard, thinks it’s her fault. That was a pointed remark. Had this been at the start of Dick’s life in Seattle, he would’ve thought that Ollie was blaming him; now, though, he knew it was meant as guidance for him, telling him to watch out for it, to reassure Lian it absolutely was not.

He didn’t get out of the car when he pulled up to Ollie and Dinah’s place. He watched from the driver’s seat as Damian got out sleepily, taking his suitcase with him, and it wasn’t until he saw Ollie guiding Damian in with a hand on his back that he pulled out of the driveway and started making his way to the hospital as fast as he could.

It was barely fast enough. Dick stood at the reception, and said, “I’m his fiancé.”

The receptionist barely blinked. “Hon, I understand this is difficult, but you aren’t listed on his records, and right now it’s family only.”

“We got engaged today , that’s why,” Dick said, a tad desperate now. And then he spotted Emiko—though Ollie hadn’t said anything about her being here. “Emi, hey! Emi, tell them to let me see Roy.”

Emiko barely glanced at him. She turned to the receptionist and said, “He’s the asshole who up and left my nephew.”

Dick blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah, well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Emiko shrugged, poking at the vending machine. “Now you are,” she said. “’Cause he’s in the hospital. What happens when he gets better? You’re here out of guilt, Dick.”

The receptionist sighed. “Look, I appreciate y’all spicing up my evening with this drama, but can you please take it elsewhere?”

“Sorry our lives are so inconvenient, Doris,” Emiko said flatly. “Can you get security to escort out this dipshit here?”

Dick pulled out his phone and called Dinah, holding eye contact with Emi the entire time. He frowned when it rang for a while and then went to voicemail. Emi smirked at him from where she was now eating from a packet of chips, leaning against the vending machine. He sighed, and then called Mia.

Mia actually answered. “Dick?” she said around a yawn.

“You’re my favourite out of your family,” Dick told her. “Can you come down here and tell them to let me in to see my fiancé?”

There was silence for a moment. “For fuck’s sake,” Mia muttered. “When I called you it was so Lian had support.”

“Hey, Mia, c’mon,” Dick said. “You can’t not let me see him. Please . I just need to—I need to tell him, okay? I need for him to know I came back and I’m staying .”

Mia was quiet for a moment. And then with a loud exhale that made Dick wince and move the phone away from his ear, she said, “ Fine , but after that you gotta take Dinah home—she’s dead on her feet but refusing to leave.”

Dick knew firsthand how stubborn Dinah could be, and tiredness only seemed to make her worse. “Deal,” he said anyway.

It took another fifteen minutes for the receptionist to give Dick a visitor’s badge and let him through. Dick blamed it largely on Emiko, who was crunching loudly behind him as she followed him and Dinah to the room Roy was in.

“They moved him out of the ICU,” Dinah told him, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her hoodie. Dressed like this, she reminded Dick of the Dinah he’d known growing up, who’d been close to Barbara. “He’s not looking so good, with all the shit he’s wired up to, and the bruising on his face—honestly, I wish Lian hadn’t had to see him like that. You did good, leaving Damian with Ollie.”

“Bruises will look worse in the morning anyway,” Emiko said. “We can’t keep the kids away from him till they fade. That’ll be worse.”

Dinah gave Dick a little nudge. “She’s taking this pretty hard,” she whispered, quietly enough that Emi, a few steps behind them, would hopefully not hear. “Go easy on her, okay?”

“She told the evil receptionist to have me escorted out!” Dick whispered back indignantly, though he knew all too well how younger siblings—or younger aunts, in this case—could be overprotective in the strangest ways.

“She wasn’t exactly happy when Lian told us where you’d gone,” Dinah said pointedly, in a tone that told Dick that he’d probably be hearing some sort of shovel talk from all members of Roy’s family. And then, unexpectedly, she said, “Look, kid, we don’t blame you for going to see your dad the moment you heard he’s alive—that’s some kind of miracle right there. The kids, they weren’t around when you and Roy were younger, but Hal and Ollie and me, we’ve seen how gone for you Roy is. Has always been. You might not do it intentionally, but he’d do absolutely anything for you. So, if you’re not serious about him, if you think you might leave and go back to Gotham, then don’t go in there. Don’t give him that false hope that things will work out between you two.”

Dick stared at her, trying to process her words. He’d known, for a while now, that Roy loved him. It’d been situations, circumstances, keeping them from pursuing anything. But now, to hear from Dinah , who’d known Roy for almost the entire time he’d lived with Ollie, that it’d stretched back so far, was making the foundations of Dick’s world shift.

They’d reached Roy’s door.

“I won’t,” Dick said, trying to put as much conviction into his voice as possible. “When I got to the airport, and Mia called, and—look, Dinah, I appreciate this whole speech and I know Roy probably would—”

“He absolutely wouldn’t,” Emi said, still crunching away.

“—but this is between Roy and me. And the kids. I’d rather tell him first, but I’m not planning on leaving.”

Dinah looked at him for a moment. “Well, I’m certainly not the type to keep you from seeing him,” she said, and raised an eyebrow at Emiko.

Emiko shrugged. “I was feeling bitchy,” she said. “It’s passing. It’ll pass faster if you buy me a chocolate bar.”

Despite everything, Dick felt his mouth twitching.

Dinah pushed open the door, poking her head inside. And then she opened it wider and gestured for them to enter. “I know they said they’re keeping him sedated, but…” She shook her head.

But Dick wasn’t listening. He stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the figure lying on the hospital bed. Roy was big; he had big muscles from a lifetime of archery and he still worked out regularly, and he had the sort of presence that filled up a room without having to do a single thing. His prosthetic had been made by Vic, who’d done his best to model it against Roy’s arm. It sat on a table in the corner now, though it looked like it’d taken a hit—there was a section of it was the dented.

Now, he seemed to almost be swallowed up by the swathes of white all around him—the sheets of the hospital bed, the blank walls, the monitors and their faint beeping. Even the chair was a beige, utterly impersonal.

Roy’s face was bruised, and his head was partially wrapped. Dick wondered distantly if they’d had to shave off any of his hair; he could practically hear Roy in his mind complaining about having to grow it back out. The sheets were pulled down to his waist, and his torso would’ve been bare had it not been for the bandages wrapped around it.

“It looks worse than it is,” Dinah murmured, patting his arm.

Once when they’d been teenagers, Dick had asked Roy whether he saw Dinah like a mother figure, if her and Ollie’s kids would be like his siblings or if it’d be some sort of uncle-brother situation, and he’d laughed in Dick’s face outright. She’s like the cool older sister figure, even if she’s dating Ollie, he’d said, which had reminded Dick instantly of his relationship with Babs. And now Dick knew that Dinah never wanted children, which took out any and all confusion. She and Mia and Emiko and Cissie fit beside each other seamlessly, if unconventionally.

“It looks pretty bad, Dinah,” Dick responded with a wet laugh. “Mia said there was a lot of blood?”

Dinah winced, out of the corner of his eye. “The crash,” she explained. “He had debris from the collision in his torso. They said that if it’d hit his stomach, he wouldn’t have lasted long enough for first responders to get to him.”

Dick calmly did not think about that. He slowly crept forward, taking Roy’s hand and standing by his bed. He didn’t say anything, because it was impossible to around the huge lump that’d lodged itself into his throat. He just gripped Roy’s fingers as tight as he dared, and stood there until they were told that visiting hours were over.

Dick had hoped that Roy would wake up the next morning, or that night, but the doctors kept him sedated for three more days before slowly bringing him out of the medically induced coma. With the unpredictable speed of the hospital, it was difficult to tell when things would be happening, and impossible to be there for everything. Dick had just pulled up to the school to pick up Damian and Lian when he got a text from Connor, telling him that the doctor had arrived and they were going to try waking him up.

Dick didn’t even have it in himself to be sad or frustrated that he couldn’t be there for it—they’d been waiting for this doctor since the previous morning, but patients with higher priorities had taken up her time. Now he was just happy to have the kids with him, in case Roy did wake.

As luck would have it, though, it was another hour before he could leave, on account of said kids starting up a fight in the playground (apparently there was further story behind Lian wanting to leave the sleepover). When he finally got back in the car with two grumpy pre-teens, sporting bruised knuckles and bruised egos, it was almost dark.

“Are we going to see Dad?” Lian asked as they pulled out of the school parking lot.

“Mmhmm,” Dick responded, resisting the urge to check his phone again. There’d be no news since Connor’s text, and he had no idea what to assume. Surely bad news travelled faster than good—that was what he kept telling himself.

“If we’re suspended,” Damian said, and no good question began with that , “then can we stay longer tonight?”

Dick blinked in surprise. “At the hospital?” he said. “We’ll see, okay?”

Lian frowned at that, but didn’t say anything else. Since the accident, she’d gotten quieter than Dick had ever seen her. They all took it in stride, trying to take her mind off her father with movies and games and outings, but nothing seemed to work all the way. The fight in the playground today wasn’t anything too unusual—Lian had gotten into more fights than Damian had over the years—but her stubborn silence about it, when she was normally extremely eager to talk about what happened, was certainly new. And Damian had decided that now was a good time to show solidarity and was equally tight lipped.

Drives were different too—normally filled with chatter about the school day, they now consisted of utter quiet, each of the kids staring out the window or in their laps. Dick wondered if Damian had thrown himself so wholeheartedly into the Harpers’ dilemma because it was easier to deal with comforting Lian, to being first and foremost loyal to her, than it was to think about his own issues right now. The two of them snuck off together a lot, going for walks in the hospital and (mostly in Lian’s case) befriending the nicer nurses.

Dick switched the radio on for a moment, and then a song came on with a bass that sounded a little too close to Great Frog’s style, and he hastily switched over to the news.

At the entrance to the hospital, Dick took a detour to the cafeteria and pulled them aside. “Here,” he said, pulling out whatever cash he had in his wallet. “Get something to eat, and get me some of that gross hospital coffee. I’ll go check us in and meet you at Roy’s room.”

They were used to this by now; neither of them thought much of it, which was what Dick had been banking on. The moment they’d turned the corner, he broke out into a jog. There were no new messages in his phone.

He didn’t know what he expected. A dramatic crowd of doctors and nurses around Roy’s room, sunlight streaming in through the window (Roy didn’t have a window), to appear at the doorway and make eye contact with him and immediately know it was going to be alright?

Most of that didn’t happen.

Ollie was the first person he spotted, and that made Dick balk just a little. He and Ollie had silently decided that they were going to put aside any and all issues Ollie might have with Dick doing just what he’d feared, at least until Roy woke up and they’d had a chance to figure things out.

But Ollie’s face broke out into a grin the moment he spotted Dick. “He woke up,” he said, holding each word like it was something precious. “Dick, he woke up.”

Some weight Dick hadn’t even known was there, on his shoulders, fell away, and he could finally breathe again. “That’s—oh my go—that’s amazing.” He was glad he’d ran into Ollie out here because now he wouldn’t risk blubbering all over Roy.

“He’s still awake now,” Ollie said gently. “Go see him. He just woke up again—we wanted the kids to be able to see him, so we made sure he rested after the initial waking, just in case.”

Dick didn’t say why didn’t you tell me sooner or you couldn’t have called or do you know how stressed I’ve been because it didn’t matter right now. He took in a breath and nodded to Ollie, and then stepped into the room.

Roy didn’t look any different. His bruises had faded a little with time, though they were still motley and colourful. They’d taken off the bandage around his head—a fair amount of his hair had been shaved off. But he was awake, and he was moving, and his eyes were open . Dick could cry all over again, just for this.

Dinah spotted him before Connor did. “Hey, bud, look who’s here to see you.” She stood then, and tapped Connor’s arm. “We’re gonna go see if you’re allowed food. Don’t go falling asleep on us yet.”

“Can’t promise that,” Roy said, and his voice was hoarse and croaky, but still holding humour. “I swear, I shut m’ eyes and you lot say it’s been a week.”

Dick stepped closer. Daringly, he reached out and took Roy’s hand, the same one he’d been holding all these days that they’d waited for him to wake up. “Too soon,” he said. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Roy gave him a smile, but it was searching. “Didn’t expect you here. You get back already?”

Dick squeezed his fingers gently. “Never left,” he told him. “Turned the car around the moment I heard what happened.”

Roy shut his eyes tightly. His fingers twitched in Dick’s grip. “Ah, fuck, Dickie, I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Dick tried to go for a light tone, but didn’t know if he quite made it.

“Having to rearrange your plans for,” Roy opened his eyes, glancing down at his body, “all this.”

“Hey, no,” Dick said, as firmly as he could without raising his voice. “It was my choice to stay. You have a tonne of family here; I could’ve easily said ‘no, he’ll be fine’. But—Roy, you were right. We—Damian and me—we do have a life here. Family. We want to stick around, see where things go between us. And even if they,” he swallowed, trying to find the right words, “even if they don’t go well, I hope we’ve known each other long enough that we’d still be okay.”

Roy was quiet for a moment. If it hadn’t been for his gaze, warm where it landed on Dick, Dick would’ve thought he’d fallen back asleep. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Of course it would. It’s not our first rodeo, is it, Robbie? We’re going to be fine.”

A wave of relief crashed over Dick. It felt like everything since Tim’s visit had been boulders upon boulders, a whole mountain that Dick had been dragging around with him, trying to keep his head above the water. Now, the last of the heavy ones fell away.

He heard feet in the hallway, and those footsteps were as familiar to him as his own. “Brace yourself,” he said, a second before Lian came crashing in through the door.

“Daddy?” she said, rooted to the spot.

Roy tried to move himself up, and Dick immediately held him back down with a hand. With the other, he pressed the remote control for the bed in Roy’s hand, releasing it so he could sit the bed upright.

“C’mere, Lian,” Dick said. “He’s going to be just fine. Careful with the hug, though—don’t want to squish him too much.”

Lian launched herself at Roy, but in a softer hug than Dick had ever seen her give. Roy gripped her tight, murmuring into her ear. Dick backed away a few steps, jerking his thumb backwards to show Roy he was stepping out, and smiling when Roy, around a wet face, mouthed thank you .

Damian was standing there as well, just outside. “He’s really awake?” he said, eyes uncertain. Not for the first time, Dick wondered just how much experience he’d had with hospitals, if this was going to result in nightmares further down the line when things calmed down.

“He really is, kiddo,” Dick said, wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulders and squeezing tight. “Give the two of them a minute, and then you can go see him.”

“Here,” Damian said, shoving a cup of coffee into Dick’s hand. “Grandpa Ollie’s bringing the rest.”

It was the first time that he’d called him Grandpa Ollie instead of Lian’s grandfather . If this last week had been a cold winter, then this was spring finally breaking. They’d arrived here, fresh from the snow of Bruce’s grave, hoping for a more merciful summer. It was nothing like what Dick had expected, but he was glad that it’d finally arrived.

— A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe