Chapter Text
A father twice over and too old to remember.
“I want to leave Gotham.”
Bruce’s head whips around to look at his son without his permission, “What?”
Dick shuffles his feet but his eyes narrow and Bruce reevaluates his words. “Have I done something?”
Dick groans, head dropping back dramatically as he stalks forward and flops over Bruce's shoulders, “Not everything is about you.”
Bruce snorts and relaxes, turning the computer chair (The Batchair B!) to let all two hundred pounds of his sixteen year old son climb into his lap, “Alright, alright, sorry chum.”
Curled in his lap, Dick lays his head against his shoulder and warmth radiates up his arm and into his head, relaxing him further.
“I want to try something different,” he says finally, “And I’ve already met some of the other younger heroes on my away missions. They’ve invited me to be part of their team.”
“And you want to go.”
“Yeah,” Dick exhales, nervous, “I won’t be gone all the time, just for a few days here and there. Maybe a week.”
Bruce smooths his hands down Dicks arms to settle him, “When?”
“Maybe in a month? I want to revamp my away suit, figure out a name, all that.”
Bruce is silent for a moment, thinking. They’re good kids, the other heroes, he’s met a few. Speedy and Wonder Girl were responsible kids, Kid Flash less so, but he could learn, will learn if he’s on a team. God knows Bruce had a learning curve when he joined the Justice League.
“Will you want to tell them who you are?”
Dick freezes, then turns, blinking up at him in bewilderment, “Why would I?”
Bruce frowns, “Because they’re your friends? You may want them to know you someday.”
Dick hums and relaxes back against him, “I don’t know. Maybe. Not any time soon. My first name, maybe. I could go by Richard.”
Bruce presses a kiss to his hair, “Whatever you want, if you think it’s what you need. I have a few stipulations, just–” he presses a hand to Dicks sternum when he starts to protest, “An emergency beacon, maybe an extra tracker, like the ones Kate and I use when we work with the League. We’ll talk about it.”
Dick grumbles but nods, “Oh fine.” They remain silent for a few minutes before he speaks again, “You’re really okay with this?”
Bruce shrugs, “Not exactly, but I know you’re grating against being kept here. I know you like going on away missions and this way you’ll be even safer.”
Dick hums and settles, eyes slipping closed, “Fair enough I guess. I’m still not wearing a cowl though.”
Bruce sighs, the age-old argument of safety in the back of his mouth. Instead, he just pulls him closer, “I wouldn’t even try.”
There’s a kid jacking his tires.
It’d be comical if it wasn’t sad.
The kid is maybe five foot, tire iron enormous in his hands. Mercy edges into the alley quietly, watching him. It doesn’t take long with just two tires on his bike, he’d forgone the Batmobile since he was on his own tonight with Kate at a gala and Dick on his way back from the Titans. The kid turns when his job is done, checking the alley, and throwing the tire iron as soon as he sees Mercy looming a few feet away. He catches it, then catches the kid as he tries to run.
“Easy,” his modulator rumbles, altered to match the softness of his tone while still sounding otherworldly, “I won’t hurt you.”
The kid struggles for a moment, then looks up and freezes, eyes wide. “Mercy?”
Mercy hums and gently releases the kid, he still looks like he wants to bolt, but Bruce has put in a lot of leg work to be seen as a protector of children. Especially street kids. Dick had certainly helped with that, making up elaborate stories that changed with every kid he saved, to make it seem like Mercy was securing the souls of dead children and carrying them away to safety. They had a good, long talk about it before Bruce realized it was actually kind of helpful.
“Yes, child, what do you need?”
The kid blinks, then slowly opens his mouth to speak, “I, um. I’m really hungry.”
Mercy nods and holds out a hand, “Come, let’s find you something to eat.”
Kate leans against the bookshelf, watching her nephews watch each other. Jason sit on the armchair, tucked into a corner of the library, and Dick stands between a window and bookshelf, brow furrowed.
“Hi,” Dick says finally.
Jason looks him up and down distastefully, “Hi.”
Dick takes that as permission to slowly approach, “I’m Dick.” Jason’s nose scrunches and Dick giggles, childish even at sixteen, “I know, but I like it. What’s your name?”
Jason shifts, “You already know my name.”
Dick shrugs, “Yeah, but you haven’t told me.”
“Jason.”
A hum, then– “Jason. Jay, Jace. Hmm, Jaybird.” Dick gasps, eyes bright, “Baby bird.”
Jason looks at him like he’s crazy, “What?”
“I’m trying to figure out a nickname for you.” Dick says, like it’s obvious, “You’re my little brother, you’ve got to have a nickname.”
Kate feels a smile sneak over her face. She remembers when Dick was about fourteen, he’d decided that everyone who ever meant something to him needed a nickname and Kate had gotten a slew of the worst puns she’d ever heard. Kat Bat had been the one he’d settled on for a while, now he just calls her Aunt Katie. She likes that one a lot more.
Jason takes a moment to buffer, “Brother?”
“I. I mean if you want. I’d like that.”
“No, it’s just. I mean, yeah, that sounds. Cool.”