Work Text:
The office was quiet. All the agents were gathered around Diana’s office, gaping at the screen. No one moved and no one spoke.
It had been about a year since the guise of Neal Caffrey, charming thief with a heart of gold was dropped. Once the office learned about ‘Neal’s’ true identity, his quirks had an explanation. For instance, Neal’s skill in evading the police made a lot more sense when you know that he has world-renowned gymnast skill under his belt and his heart of gold made sense when you know that he’d been a vigilante in Gotham since he was a kid.
But this… there was no explanation for this. There was no reason for such a… travesty.
“Why would anyone do such a thing?” one agent asked.
“Why would anyone let him do such a thing?” Diana added.
Peter stood in the middle of the crowd closest to the desk. His eyes were glued to the screen. “Dick wouldn’t do something like this without a reason. There has to be a reason, right?”
Jones shook his head. “Sometimes there’s no reason for evils like this, Peter. Some crimes are senseless.”
Peter shook his head mournfully. An agent behind him put their hand on his shoulder in a silent act of comfort.
A ding to their left interrupted their moment of silence. They turned, following the noise.
“Hey… guys. What’s going on?” Dick greeted. He slowed to a stop, his expression going from cheerful to concerned in a matter of seconds.
Peter didn’t want to break the news to him. Instead, he looked at Diana expectantly. “You discovered it, you tell him.”
Diana sighed. “I think it’s better if you come and see for yourself,” she told him dejectedly.
Dick eyed them like they’d all lost their minds. He sat his coffee down on his desk and walked over to them. The crowd parted, making way for him.
Dick caught a glimpse of the screen and groaned.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Peter asked.
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger. He sighed, exasperated. “Peter, I was trying to make my own way, I didn’t put much thought into color schemes--”
“Oh, I can tell,” Peter interrupted. “You went from dressing like a traffic light to this. No wonder vigilantism is illegal, look how you dress.”
“I don’t hate it.”
Peter shot a glare at an unnamed probie. Dick grinned. “Thank you!”
“Dick! This is not something we stand for! This is a crime!”
Dick considers the blurry photo. It must’ve been taken in the few months after his move to Bludhaven. He was standing on top of a building, facing toward the camera but unaware that it was there. “I don’t know. I think it makes me stand out.”
“Stand out from what? Your dad dresses up as a bat. The superhero community is not lacking in creativity.”
Dick pointed a finger at him. “Adopted dad. And you clearly haven’t seen the Bat-spinoffs.”
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “Bat-spinoffs?”
“Yeah. You know, Batgirl, Batwoman, Black Bat. Even Man-Bat copied Batman, although Kirk probably has a stronger claim to the name than B does.”
Peter shakes his head. There were differences between Dick and Neal, but their personalities were mostly the same. As a result, Peter finds himself just as frustrated with Dick sometimes as he had been before.
Dick turned his head as he studied the photo. “Oh, my hair is kind of long there,” he said. Then he laughs. “Did I ever tell you guys about the time I had a mullet?”
“A what?”