Work Text:
The rap on the window came again, and Dick tried not to groan when he heard it. He didn't want to be awake. The days when they had to move the circus were the worst. They were stuck in the car for hours and hours and then they had to get out and set up the tents and attractions, and he was so tired. He wanted to pretend his mother had just left the room after kissing him goodnight and forget that he'd heard anything.
Only he couldn't.
He knew who was out there, and he had to let him in. He sat up, crawling over to the window and pushing it open. It creaked, and he winced, hoping he wouldn't wake his parents. They wouldn't mind, not really, but they'd want to find Clint's guardian first, and Dick didn't want them to. Most of the people in the circus were nice, but Dick didn't like Jacques. Something about that man was wrong, and he didn't like that Clint was stuck living with him.
“Come on,” Dick said, waving his friend in the window. He didn't know how Clint could always get in without something to jump up from, but he did. Sometimes Dick's parents teased about making Clint a part of their act, but Dick didn't think the other boy wanted that.
“Sorry,” Clint said, flopping down on Dick's bed. He leaned back against the wall. “I couldn't find Barney again.”
Dick shook his head. He didn't like Barney much, either. He was nice to Clint because Clint was his brother, but he was always making dirty jokes about Dick's name and giving him noogies. He was a bully. “I haven't seen him. Haven't seen Trickshot or Swordsman, either.”
“You don't have to say it like that,” Clint said. “They're not as bad as you think.”
Dick snorted. “Sure they're not.”
“Dick—”
“If they're so great, why do you end up here most nights after a nightmare?” Dick asked, folding his arms over his chest. And why do I think if you weren't wearing long sleeves you'd be covered in bruises? Dick had fallen a few times during practice, he knew painful it could be, and he knew the way he huddled when he hurt. Clint did the same thing but always said he was fine.
Dick hated it.
“Because I know you're afraid of the dark,” Clint teased, and Dick made a face. “Admit it, you're scared of the dark and wish your trailer had a nightlight for the little birdy.”
Dick kicked him. “You're such a pain. Next time I'm locking my window.”
Clint snorted.
Dick rolled his eyes and moved over to let Clint have half the bed. “I'm not giving you a pillow.”
“Whine all you want, Grayson. You know you love me.”
Dick would have shoved him out of the bed, but Clint's shirt had bunched up when he laid down, and Dick didn't think that dark mark had come from the act that Clint was working on. He passed his friend a pillow and settled down to sleep.
Clint turned over, trying to get comfortable. His back hurt, and he couldn't shut his brain off, not even with Dick's calm breathing next to him. Clint had used that before, when his parents were still alive, and then later in the orphanage, listening to Barney sleep so that he could fall asleep himself, but it wasn't working here.
He should feel safe in the Graysons' trailer. They were good people, and they loved Dick like he was life itself. Clint couldn't help feeling jealous every time he saw Dick's mom ruffle his hair and heard her call him Robin. Clint missed his own mother, but even she was no Mary Grayson. If John had done the sort of things that Clint's dad did, Mary would have kicked his ass and left him. She wouldn't have stayed like Clint's mom did. She would have protected Dick with all she had—not that she needed to. John was a good man, a better one than the Swordsman.
The trailer shook.
Clint sat up, looking around. He didn't think Dick would stay asleep for long. The other boy was still a pretty light sleeper. His parents weren't and that was nice when the two of them weren't too tired to sneak out and cause trouble, and he hoped that it would be true tonight.
He had to crawl out and get back to his own trailer before Swordsman woke everyone up—before he got real mad.
He remembered when he was real little he used to be afraid of the monsters under his bed. Mostly he knew he was because Barney kept teasing him about it. Anymore, though, after the orphanage and his time at the circus, Clint wasn't afraid of the monsters under his bed. He was afraid of the ones outside the bed.
He heard Swordsman yelling outside and winced. He almost jumped when Dick put a hand on his shoulder. “I don't care what he says. You don't have to go back to him tonight.”
“It's not like that. You make it sound sick.”
Dick sighed. “I don't—it's not like we don't know he hurts you, that he won't punish you if you go back to him tonight.”
“Dick—”
“Trickshot doesn't hurt Barney. You should get him to teach you some stuff,” Dick said. “You know, so you can defend yourself if you have to. Not that you should have to. I wish we could just take you in and keep you safe—”
“I'm staying with Barney. He's my brother.”
Dick nodded, biting his lip, and Clint felt bad. Dick was as good as a brother to him most days, sometimes better and nicer than Barney was, but that was how it was with brothers.
“If I could have two brothers, I'd want you for the other one,” Clint told him. He gave Dick a small smile. “I mean that.”
“You're not going out there,” Dick insisted. “You don't have to, and I won't let you. If he wakes up my parents, they won't let you.”
“He's not going away. It's going to be a long night.”
“If he's drunk, he'll give up. They always do,” Dick said, knowing how the roustabouts could be if they'd had too many. “We just have to be braver than he is and ignore him.”
“We are brave,” Clint said because Dick seemed fearless most days, doing the routines his parents did without a safety net, and while Clint didn't do that, he knew he wasn't really scared of Swordsman or anyone else. Not when he was with good friends and had a plan. He could make this work.
“Go back to sleep,” Dick said. “And try not to snore this time.”
“Me? That's you, little bird.”
“No, it's you, but at least you only snore and don't talk in your sleep like Barney does. I don't know how you can stand that.”
“Barney's noises kept the monsters away when we were younger. No one would go near him if they thought he was awake because he kept talking in his sleep.”
“Someday we'll be old enough to make all the monsters go away. That's what I'm gonna do.”
“Me, too.”