Chapter Text
Dick hated adrenaline crash.
Ever since he started performing, it would come soon after the finale. Make Dick fall asleep on top of equipment if he didn’t get scooped up by Zitka. Later, when he built tolerance, it would come halfway into the cleanup after the show. He was old enough to perform, but he was useless at the responsibilities that came right after. He wouldn't fall asleep most of the time, but he's be slumped at a corner watching the world go by. It got better with time. Dick took less and less time to recover and then finally managed to stay awake long enough to be awake for celebrations. The circus didn’t sleep after big shows, and with time, Dick learned not to sleep, too.
Going out for patrols at night had been like a slap, after all that time. Patrols were longer, adrenaline would drive him more, and he would force through the field so the crash didn't come while they were out. And Dick would sleep like a log after it. He had dozens of alarms, yet he would barely be aware when Alfred called him for breakfast. But it, too, was getting easier with time. Dick had been managing to wake up on his own even. But some days were just hard. After long fights against the rogues.
Apparently, fleeing from the Bat was the same, even if he wasn’t being actively chased.
He was laying face down on the couch, with a pillow beneath his cheek that was definitely gonna create lines. He had a blanket drawn until his neck. He had to force himself to breathe normal. He couldn't panic again. He remembered sneaking into Alfred's safehouse through the window and sitting on the couch. He didn't remember searching the house for a blanket. He didn't remember laying down. He didn't remember kicking his shoes, which he was planning to sleep while it was on in case he had to run.
Someone had to be there.
"Good morning, crystal bird."
Oh no. Batman called the big guns.
Dick could pretend to be asleep. Dick could fall back asleep. He could ignore Superman in the house and avoid Batman forever. But he never managed to sleep when the sun was up, if he wasn't travelling. There was so much to do in the day. And Superman could hear heartbeats. Keep track of breathing patterns. He knew Dick was awake. There was no use in pretending.
"I made breakfast."
Tempting offer. Drugging attempt. Kindness for a child. Superman was supposed to be good, even in this alternate universe. Apparently, older him straight ran to the man when Bruce—
Nope, don't go there.
Dick pushed himself up. His limbs were achy. He blamed the too fast grapple gun. Sure, he abused that thing to cross the cursed city, but flying made him feel alive. And maybe forget that he was running away rather than just patrolling through Gotham.
Dick peeked from the top of the couch. The kitchen was barely visible from here, but he could see Clark shifting through one end of the counter to another, humming a tune. Even in civilian clothing, he looked larger than life.
Dick wouldn't be able to take on superman even if he wanted to. He was starting to regret refusing to carry a kryptonite. But he guessed it wouldn't matter, Superman could and would act faster than Dick. And Dick wasn’t Batman. He wouldn’t betray a show of trust like that.
"Batman sent a babysitter?" He asked. He slipped into the shoes set next to the couch and grabbed his utility belt.
"I sneak into Gotham to see my favourite hero, and this is what I get?"
Dick tripped his own feet. Clark ignored him completely, floating up to grab cups. One, Dick wasn’t Clark's favourite. It was Batman. Two, Superman didn’t sneak. Not to Gotham. He respected Batman too much for that. So Batman didn't ask it. Who would? Alfred? But the man was often reluctant to do things from Bruce's back. Would he break his own rules for Dick?
"I know you care about your diet. But I thought you'd like some sweets after causing chaos in the watchtower. You wounded a few prides," Clark chuckled. He filled his cup with coffee and heated it with his vision.
Dick bowed his head, slumping as he climbed to the island behind. He perched on it, hugging his legs. Ready to bolt, even though he could see only one end if there happened a confrontation.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. He resisted the urge to bury his head to his knees. It would slow his reaction time and block his vision. But he was really sorry that he attacked this universe's Justice League, even though he didn't really hurt any of them.
Clark turned back, two plates at hand. He smiled, and Dick could tell it was a Superman smile rather than a Kent smile. He landed louder than usual and telegraphed his each movement. As if Dick was a scared civillian rather than a hero on his own. Dick didn't like that at all. He wasn't paranoid as his Batman would be. He was just cautious.
Dick backed down to a chair and wiped the countertop with a nearby towel before pulling one of the plates in front of him. He could act friendly. Acting was his thing.
"I still don't know what crystal bird means," he started. He was learning Kryptonian. The language was different, but his Superman sparing ten minutes to Dick and sending him materials helped greatly. It was his second favourite thing in his routine, right after patrolling.
"Older you does. He appreciates the symbolism of it."
Dick hummed. "We are close?"
"You are family," Clark replied easily. It was sincere. Dick wanted to be when he got back to his own universe. His first meeting with Clark at LexCorp was interesting enough, and then to learn he was Superman... Dick was curious. Not Batman curious as in scientific curious. Dick wanted to know Clark. So away from a home he can never go back to... he needed a friend. And maybe Dick needed him as a friend, too. Robin couldn't have only Batman. It would be lonely. And his Clark wanted him, after a few missions together.
"Do you have any practice material on you?" Dick asked. If he learned about this Clark, maybe he could surprise his one when he got back. ıt would make the man's day. Not that it was hard, Clark appreciated even the smallest things. But Dick always noticed anything about him personally was the key to the man's heart. To be seen as the person behind the symbol, Dick would bet.
Alternate Clark laughed. This one was genuine."Not really, It's been a while since you asked that from me."
"You appreved alternate-me fluent? When?"
"Alternate?" Clark frowned. "It's possible, but..."
"I read some of the files," Dick shrugged. "I don't know if it's by magic or some alien tech, but apparently, I'm either replaced or thrust into this alternate universe."
"Dick," Clark bit his lip.
"At least this alternate Batman asks for help. Do you know how long did it take me to convince mine that you could be a great help?" He whined. He filled his mouth with food. He was starting to talk too much. It wouldn't do. He was supposed to get information, not give.
"Regardless of specifics," Clark sighed. "You can't stay on your own. Your friends are worried."
What friends, Dick bit back. That was a sad thought. It was why Dick wanted other hero or vigilante friends. Like Clark. He wasn't meant for a lonely life. "Why would they be worried?" Dick asked instead, reaching for the honey jar.
"You got hit by magic on screen. They were on their way to Watchtower before you ran."
"On screen?" Dick all but shouted.
"Nightwing operates a little differently than Robin," Clark gave him a knowing look. "Just like Batman makes a few appearances on camera with me and Diana."
Dick nodded. It made sense. "I've spent half an hour reading through a giant file about the Kryptonian god, dragon, bird and Kryptonian vigilante Nightwing."
"Recycling names aren't uncommon in myths, I've come to learn," Clark shrugged. "Anyway, you have a lot of people that would feel better if you stayed somewhere they can see."
"I don't know any of them," Dick tried not to sound rude. He really didn't, despite the information dumpster his brain became after reading most of what he could access.
"You know Batman," Clark pointed out.
"Not this one. He wouldn't just..." kick me out, he couldn’t say. Sure, they were partners for almost a year and that wasn't a lot of time, but Bruce wasn't heartless, regardless of his own claims about having no emotions.
"I know, but adult you and him eventually reconciled."
Dick hated the pity in his voice.
"Or never talked about it ever again," he retorted. "Can't I stay with you?"
"Meteopolis is probably safer, but I used a lot of leave this month."
"You're still in Daily Planet?"
Clark nodded.
"This doesn't make sense."
"You'll see when you grow up," Clark huffed, then as if realisation dawned, he shook his head. "Or not. You change your field every two years."
"That doesn't make sense either," Dick grumbled.
Clark smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to see Alfred?"
"He comes with a package." Dick reached out to Clark's wrist, checking the time. "But I guess it's early enough for him to be alone."
"It's eleven." Clark raised an eyebrow.
"Bruce sleeps until noon to make up the night spent out." Dick shrugged.
Clark looked like he wanted to say something but held back. He took Dick's empty plate and loaded the dishwasher.
"You'll fly me to the manor?" Dick asked.
"I don't have a car in Gotham."
Dick smiled. "So flying it is."
Superman landed slowly in the middle of the manor's gardens. Dick stepped down equally careful. He could still smell fresh grass. Alfred must have tended it not long ago.
Dick whistled. Clark looked at him in confusion.
"You met Ace," Dick stated. Because he was sure of it. Clark should have met the dog at one of his visits, even though the dog had a tendency to disappear for long walks almsot all the time.
A grey dog bolted out of the barn instead -since when they had a barn in the backyard?- and started circling them with interest.
Dick shooed the dog. He bit his lip. He was missing more than a decade. Ace had a long life even before Dick and Bruce adopted him. Which meant...
"Titus!" The child - Damian, Dick recognised - called, rushing out of the manor. The dog circled back, falling in step with tail wagging.
Dick tensed in his spot.
This boy was Robin. Robin to Bruce. The grief threatening him a moment ago was not enough to keep him from getting angry. But Damian also was Robin to Alternate Dick, and Dick didn't know what to do with it.
"Alien," Damian straightened.
"Have anyone taught you manners?" Dick snapped. Clark simply sighed.
"This is Grayson?" Damian looked at him as if he was wearing Joker makeup.
Dick hated it. He turned to Clark. "I told you Metropolis was better, I promise I won't be a trouble while you're at work."
"No," the child almost shouted. "Manor is your home. And It's superior to Kent's miniature estate."
"I told Alfred I'd bring you in," Clark pushed.
Dick was being dumped. But it was his fault for assuming Superman wasn't busy and would help him through. Fine by him. He could get over this without Superman. It was just because he didn't want to be stuck with an entitled child. It was why he hadn't lasted a day in Gotham Academy.
Yes, that was the only reason.
Damian took the lead. Dick was forced to follow with Clark walking behind him and the new dog - Titus - was altering between sides, making sure to trap Dick in the middle.
Clark suddenly stopped on his tracks.
"Trouble?" Dick asked. Don't leave me alone, he wanted to say. But that would be selfish. Superman had better things to do than babysit Dick.
"Sorry, Red."
"Good luck Blue," Dick chirped with his best reassuring smile. He couldn't have Clark thinking about him while saving people, could he?
Clark returned the smile and took off.
"I thought you were Blue," Damian commented. He looked less stiff.
"My costume doesn't have blue," Dick stated the obvious.
"It does— Richard's costume does."
"You're not his red." Dick was afraid to make it a question. He couldn't be replaced in all fronts, could he?
"I'm your Robin. I don't settle."
The kid was trying to compliment Dick. He was awful at it. Trying to appear unaffected, as if it was just another morning. But Dick could see through. He was just like Bruce. Damian was son of Bruce. It didn’t raise any emotions inside Dick. It definitely didn't. Not his circus not his monkeys.
At least he was still Superman's Red.
They reached the back gates of the manor, and Dick ignored every single change. He was going to assure Alfred and leave anyway. Hopefully, Superman would be too busy to pick him up next time.
Damian pushed the doors with ease, revealing the inside.
The manor had never failed to make him so small. Giant, wooden stairs that was now surrounding him, with every furniture being made for the giant Waynes. Even the entrance was enough to hold Elinore and her every piece of equipment. The ceiling was too high for it not to be used for any shows.
On a second thought, Dick could assure Alfred on the phone. There was no need to bother the man in the middle of his work.
Dick turned back, But Damian was there in a blink.
The doors shut.