Archive of Our Own

It’s his ninth night on his own in Gotham after Bruce — no, after Batman fired him and kicked him out, and it’s going great. It isn’t the first time, and Dick knows Bruce only fired him because he was scared of losing him. He knows that if he bides his time, Bruce’s fear will subside and he’ll welcome him back into the fold without saying another word.

Dick punches the drug dealer he’d been beating harder than he should have, hard enough to make him lose a few teeth. It’s enough to knock the guy out instantly, enough to end the fight, but not enough to stop the anger from boiling in his veins. 

Because this isn’t the first time Batman has fired him because he got hurt, and partners don’t unilaterally dissolve said partnership every time they march into danger and don’t come back unscathed. Dick is no longer nine and naive, no longer twelve and eternally forgiving. He’s seventeen and frankly quite done with Bruce’s bullshit. 

So this time when Bruce fired him Dick had quickly stuffed his costume and a few clothes into a bag and given Alfred his key like Batman had told him to and marched right out of the door of Wayne Manor. He’d made his way to one of their more comfortable safehouses and resolved that this time, if Batman wanted his partner back, he would have to come and get him himself, armed with an apology. 

Two weeks later, and that hasn’t happened (yet) so Dick keeps himself busy with Titans business, homework, and a case about a new synthetic drug that has been hitting Central City and Gotham the past few weeks. 

The sight of the drug dealer’s front teeth hitting the pavement is enough to shake Dick back to reality. 

“Get a grip, Robin,” he mutters to himself, sounding more like Batman than he wants to. He ignores the echo of Batman’s voice in his mind, berating him that an unconscious man can’t be interrogated. Instead, he searches the man’s pockets and takes his ‘merchandise’. A quick tox scan tells him that it is indeed the new drug. He sends a copy of the data to Wally, who forwards his findings to the Flash. 

In the distance he hears the too-silent sound of a distinctive car, coming closer. In the past, he felt nothing but relief whenever he heard those tires race towards him, but right now it only makes his anger flare back up. He drags the drug dealer into an alley, blends into the shadows and puts his mind to solving the case, preferably as far away from the Dark Knight as is possible within the borders of Gotham.

Crime doesn’t sleep, and Dick has plenty of pent-up energy to work through.

—

By the end of the fourth week Bruce still hasn’t shown up. His bug in the batcomputer’s security system shows that the one ‘hidden’ camera he didn’t remove from the apartment has been activated remotely five times, so Dick knows that Bruce knows where he’s been staying.

But Bruce hasn’t shown his face yet, nor made any attempts to otherwise contact him. Alfred leaving a voicemail doesn’t count, nor do Clark’s text messages. 

If eight years of vigilante justice have taught him anything, then it is how to channel that anger into something productive. If anything, his emotions make him more determined to do his job. By the end of the fifth week, he has not only unearthed the truth behind the new drug but also traced their entire production line and apprehended the kingpins, all on his own. 

He delivers the three women, bat-style, to Jim Gordon’s rooftop in chains.

In many ways, Jim Gordon is a better man than Bruce Wayne will ever be. But in some ways, he is exactly the same. The commissioner doesn’t show the smallest sign of being impressed when Robin hands him all the evidence needed to lock them up for the rest of their lives. 

“Does the Bat know you’re doing this solo?” Is all he asks.

Not all the circus blood in the world could keep the smile on Robin’s face. “He doesn’t need me.” Upon realizing how childish that sounds, he adds: “And I don’t need him.” 

Jim shakes his head. “Go home, kid. It’s a Friday night. Live a little, before this life kills what’s left of your youth.” 

What Jim doesn’t know — what nobody of the old guard except for Bruce seems to understand — is that the innocence of youth died years ago along with his parents. 

Dick grits his teeth. “No.” 

“This isn’t some game, kid.” 

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” Dick snipes back. “After all these years, don’t you think I know exactly how dark this job gets? Give me some credit.” 

The Commissioner sighs. “I think you know better than any child ever should. Listen to me kid: break free while you still can. Spend some years in the light, and if you still want to play a hero after, there will still be crime to fight. Because there is no end to this night, Robin. so— ” 

“I know this isn’t a game,” Robin declares passionately, walking backwards towards the edge of the roof “What none of you seem to get is that I’m not just some kid. I’m Robin. I know crime won’t quit. But neither will I. Not in the brightest day, nor in the blackest night.” 

“You’re neither immortal nor unbreakable, Robin.” 

Dick barks a bitter laugh, feeling more determined than ever. “Maybe, but I’m not afraid.” 

He doesn’t wait for Jim’s answer. Instead, he lets himself fall over the edge of the roof with his eyes closed, enjoying the little sound of alarm that escapes the commissioner. He shoots his grapple at the absolute last second and swings into a dark alley without making a single sound.

His feet never hit the ground. 

“Richard John Grayson of Earth,” an emotionless voice suddenly drones in his ears. “You have the ability to overcome great fear.” 

A green projectible shoots towards him at a breakneck speed, and Dick isn’t able to change his trajectory in the air enough to avoid him. He braces for the worst, but it doesn’t penetrate his skin. Instead, a strange weight settles around his ring finger.

“You have been chosen,” the ring proclaims for the world to hear. “Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.” 

A green light envelops his body, and suddenly he’s a Flying Grayson in an entirely new way. His Robin costume is gone, and what remains is the black and green uniform of a Green Lantern. 

“Fuck.” 

—

Ironically, his previous anger is drowned by fear before the light of dawn peeks through the curtains of the safehouse. Dick is suddenly glad he broke Bruce’s final security camera last week because he doesn’t know how to explain this. 

“Bruce is not going to like this at all.” On his left ring finger, the green ring he can’t seem to take off shines brightly. He’s been Robin too long not to recognize the lantern-like pattern etched into the seemingly indestructible metal. And he’s known Batman for half his life, long enough to know exactly how his mentor thinks about the Lantern Corps. 

“Scratch him not liking this. Batman is going to kill me when he finds out,” Dick mutters to himself, trying to keep himself from losing his mind. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus, Robin!

He tries to take the ring off again, but it doesn’t work. He’s somehow managed to convince the ring to take the mask from his face, but so far no luck on the uniform. 

“Can’t you just… pick someone else?” 

“Negative,” the ring responds emotionlessly. “Richard John Grayson, report to Oa at your earliest convenience.” 

“No way in hell,” he says while throwing on whatever clothing he can find that can hide the Lantern uniform. “I’ve got to go home, right now. Bruce will know what to do. Is there a mute button on this thing?” 

“Negative. Richard John Grayson, report to Oa at your earliest convenience. All will be explained at the training facility.” 

“No,” Dick repeats stubbornly, feeling childish for arguing with a ring, even if it is one of the most powerful weapons in the universe. He eventually manages to sew together a spare Robin cape into something that resembles a yellow glove and covers the ring with it. It doesn’t completely cancel out the sounds of the ring, but it muffles it enough that you can only hear it if someone is actively listening.

‘Good enough,’ he thinks and takes the first bus into the direction of the manor. He hasn’t talked to Bruce in weeks but this is an emergency, right? Batman has worked with Green Lanterns before. He’ll know what to do.

But the closer he gets to ‘home’, the more anxious he becomes. After Bruce removes the ring, then what? This is just another nail into the coffin of the Dynamic Duo. What if Bruce doesn’t want him back?

He knocks on the door a little before noon, having walked the last part of the journey just to gather his nerves. It’s humiliating, having to knock instead of using his key, but he’s got bigger problems right now than his wounded pride. 

Dick never gets to use the speech he prepared on the way home because it’s not Bruce that opens the doors, not even Alfred.

“Who are you, and how did you get past the front gate?” a scrappy kid wearing some old cast-offs that Dick vaguely remembers being his when he was twelve or so says after opening the door.

“I should be asking you that,” Dick counters. 

It’s Alfred that answers his question. “Master Jason! Don’t just open the door for— Master Richard! You’ve returned?” 

“Hey Alfie,” Dick says, his voice carefully controlled. “Can I come in?” 

“Of course, dear boy. Jason, this is Richard. Master Bruce’s ward.” 

Somehow the word ward still makes Dick wince internally, although he knows better than to let it show. The boy — Jason — moves aside, looking at him with a strange mix between suspicion and admiration in his eyes. Dick decides to ignore him and instead focuses on Alfred.

“Is Bruce home?” 

Alfred shakes his head. “Master Bruce is at the office, for once. He needed to speak to his lawyers. He will be back before dinner though.” 

“I need to talk to him.” 

“That you do. Sit down, and let me serve you some food. Have you eaten at all?” 

The ring around his finger makes a sudden sound, and Dick quickly hides his hand in his pocket and says, “No. What’s with the kid though? Did Bruce pick up another stray?” He jokes.

He doesn’t expect Alfred to nod, nor to ruffle the boy’s hair. “In a way, yes. He’s with his lawyers right now to prepare the adoption process.” 

Dick's knees nearly give out from shock, his eyebrows rising to his hairline. “Adoption? Don’t you mean guardianship?” 

“Jason’s mother is sadly deceased, and his father is not in a position to care for him from his prison cell.” 

“And I don’t want to share a last name with that abusive piece of shit a second longer than I have to,” Jason chimes in with a nasty frown on his young face. 

“Language,” Alfred scolds him, but there is no real heat to his words.

Dick pinches himself discreetly, willing the domestic image in front of him to fade, but it doesn’t. “And Bruce just… agreed with that?” 

“It was his idea. He’s always liked the idea of a big family,” Alfred adds with a pointed look his way, as if Dick is still part of that family. 

This morning when he prepared himself for entering the Manor for the first time in months, he braced himself for anger. He expected arguments. But he didn’t prepare to get replaced with a newer, brighter kid. Tears gather in the corner of his eyes and his stomach aches. He should be angry, but instead he just feels sad and lonely and so utterly betrayed. Emotion swirls in his gut, inciting him to do reckless things.

Dick paints his brightest smile on his face, and lies: “That’s great, Jason!” 

"Uh... thanks?" 

The kid buys it, but Alfred doesn’t. At least the butler doesn’t call him out on his blatant lie in front of Jason, although Dick has no illusion that he won’t grill him for answers as soon as they’re alone. Dick doesn’t plan on staying long enough to give him that chance.

“Why don’t you sit down and have some lunch?” Alfred asks pointedly. 

“It’s fine, I had a big breakfast. Ate enough cereal to last me a lifetime,” Dick lies again. “I just came to pick up some things and talk to Bruce. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” 

“There is no need for you to leave.” 

“Sorry Alfie, I promised the Tita— “ he shoots an awkward glance at Jason before continuing. “my friends that I would check in today.” 

“I’m sure yourfriends can wait a day.” 

“They really can’t. I need to discuss stuff with them.” 

“Stuff?” 

“I’m taking a break from the— the job, so I need to tie up some loose ends,” he says without thinking. “Since I got fired, after all.” 

Alfred shoots him a pointed look from behind the kitchen cabinets. “Are you? Considering your recent activity at your night job.” 

Dick’s smile doesn’t waver. In for a penny, in for a pound. “That’s just me tying up some loose ends.” 

Alfred looks like he wants to say something about that, but he doesn’t get a chance before Jason is currently all up in Dick's face. 

“Wait… you’re Robin?” 

Dicks’ eyes go wide. “How— “ 

“Master Jason came to us after he tried to steal the tires of the batmobile,” Alfred explains, looking fond. As if Dick wouldn’t have been fired for touching the tires of the batmobile without Bruce’s explicit consent. As if any of this is funny.

 Ah, there it is, his old friend: anger. It had been his companion when his first family died, and it seems it’s here again now his second family is falling apart.

“And Bruce just decided to keep him?” 

“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m a dog!” Jason barks back. 

Dick shrugs, feeling particularly cruel. “If the shoe fits.” 

Jason jumps up from his chair, looking somewhere between angry and devastated, which he honestly has no right to considering it is not him who is being cast aside like a wet towel. 

“I always thought you would be cooler, but you’re just a jerk in a suit, aren’t you?” 

Dick doesn’t deny it. “Not anymore. Bruce fired me.” 

“Why? Did you mess up?” Jason asks, the viciousness in his voice equal to Dick’s own. Great, they even have a similar temper. Good luck with that, Bruce! 

Dick swallows deeply, and his anger twists into something dangerous. It swirls cold and vicious in his gut, but at least it’s a familiar feeling, better than the betrayal and loneliness. He can work with this.

“No, I didn’t,” he growls icily at the kid in a way he knows is more like Batman than Robin. “Batman messed up, and was too much of a coward to own up to it.” 

“Master Richard— “ 

Dick raises his hand in dismissal. “Save it, Alfie. I don’t want to hear it. Tell Bruce that Robin is no more. That should make him happy,” he spits at Alfred, who for all his virtues has never and will never pick him over his master.

“You can’t just stop being Robin!” Jason yells, surprising Dick by suddenly blocking his path. “Gotham needs Robin just as much as it needs Batman!” 

“Watch me, kiddo,” he says and pushes him out of his way easily. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.” 

He doesn’t give Alfred or Jason any time to respond and instead races up the old stairs like he has done a thousand times before, as he will never do again. Every step is jarring, knowing that. It’s even more painful to open the door to the room that has been his bedroom for nearly a decade, and know that he’ll never sleep in that bed again. 

He packs light, only taking things that are truly his. The Flying Grayson poster, Zitka the stuffed elephant, and a few framed pictures of him and the Titans in their civies. No phone, laptop, or anything else that Bruce could use to trace him. 

Alfred enters his room just when Dick is zipping up his bag. “Master Richard, I beg you to reconsider.” 

Dick sighs. “Alfred, thanks for everything you’ve done for me the past years. I really appreciate it, you know.” 

“At least wait until Master Bruce returns and speak to him,” Alfred pleads, sounding unusually uncomposed.

 “If Bruce wanted to talk to me, he would have done so by now,” Dick snipes back. 

For a moment, they just look at each other, taking in the sight of each other, and Dick remembers how tall and scary the butler had seemed when he first met him. He’s been taller than Alfred since his last growth spurt hit him, if only by an inch or two. Back then Alfred had been the closest thing to a superhero, more so than Superman or even Batman, because nine-year-old Dick rarely encountered a problem he couldn’t fix.

But it’s been eight long years, and Dick knows better now. He slings his bag over his shoulder and waits patiently for Alfred to move aside.

He does, eventually, because just like Dick and Bruce, Alfred has his faults. “Will you at least tell me where you're going?” 

“Titan Tower, probably,” Dick lies easily. “After that, I think I’ll go sightseeing. I’ve been in Gotham too long. Maybe I’ll even track down Haly’s, see if they have a job for me. I’ll be fine. Don't worry about me. I'm almost eighteen.”

"You only recently turned seventeen."

"But I'm hardly a child anymore." One look over his shoulder tells him that Alfred doesn’t believe him. “I just… need to find out who Dick Grayson is, if not Robin,” he adds.

Alfred sighs deeply and runs a hand through the little hair remaining on his head. “I couldn’t stop Master Bruce, and I can’t stop you now,” he says, sounding older than time itself, somehow making Dick feel even worse than he already did. “Promise me you’ll be careful. And that you will return.” 

“I will,” Dick says and lets the butler walk him to the door. “Bye Alfie. Thanks for everything.” 

Alfred follows him all the way to the gates of the estate. “Godspeed, my boy,” he whispers when Dick hugs him one last time. “And remember: no matter how far you stray, there will always be a home for you here.”

Once, Dick would have believed anything Alfred told him. But those days are long gone. 

Dick walks through the gates and doesn’t look back. 

—

He doesn’t end up going to Titan’s Tower, because he knows his friends will see right through him the second he sets foot into the building. Instead, he boards the first train out of Gotham and ends up in Blüdhaven of all places. He creeps into an internet cafe and sends a long and sentimental e-mail to his friends, expanding upon the story he already told Alfred. Then he uses the bank account Bruce set up for him when he first arrived at the manor to buy an overnight bus ticket to the furthest available destination away from Gotham. Finally, he gathers everything he packed into his bag and mails it to Barbara’s house, trusting her to keep it safe until he returns. 

‘If I return,’ he corrects himself, standing in a deserted alley. Carefully, he removes the makeshift yellow glove to reveal that — yes, the ring is still there and going strong.

“Richard John Grayson, report to Oa at your earliest convenience for initiation into the Green Lanterns,” it bleeps impersonally. 

“Alright, alright, you win. It’s not like I have anywhere else left to go,” Dick says bitterly. “I’ll go. Can you like, give me a ride or something? I have no idea where this Oa place is.”

He expects the ring to manifest a plane or a spaceship like he has seen Green Lantern make a few times. But instead the ring just pulls him off his feet and up into the sky. He doesn’t freeze nor choke when he reaches the edges of Earth’s atmosphere, and it’s only then that it hits him.

“Holy spaceships Batman, I’m a Green Lantern!”

— 

It’s hard to know how long it takes him to reach the planet of Oa, but Dick knows it’s not as long as it would have taken him if he used any kind of human technology. 

His ring guides him to the right place, telling him very few things. It’s just him, moving at a breakneck speed through the endless universe, feeling awfully small and having more than a few regrets. But it’s too late to back out now. 

It isn’t until he arrives at Oa that he realizes just how many Green Lanterns there are, each looking more alien than the next. 

He meets the Guardians, learns a thing or two about the history of the Green Lantern Corps, and is assigned to something that can only be described as Bootcamp. It’s all a daze, really. Then, either by chance or by providence, he runs into a familiar face.

“So you’re the new Sector 2814 Green Lantern? What are the odds of another human landing himself a ring?” Hal fucking Jordan wonders out loud inspecting him with a cocky smile. “Your name is Richard Grayson, right? Heard the Guardians announce your name back at the initiation.”

Dick winces. “I’d like it if you didn’t announce that to the world. Secret identity and all that.”

Hal laughs, and Dick is pretty sure he rolls his eyes behind his mask. “This isn’t Earth, kiddo. Here in Oa we’re all Green Lanterns, so we call each other by our given names. It would get pretty convoluted otherwise.”

“I guess,” Dick says offhandedly, feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn’t in a long time.

“Where are you from anyway? Your accent is hard to place.” 

“Gotham. I used to travel a lot, though.” 

The mention of Gotham has Hal look at him differently and Dick is reminded that the man is actually not an idiot, no matter what Bruce proclaims from time to time. 

“Wait, there’s something familiar about you…” Hal walks a circle around him, and Dick suddenly becomes achingly aware that his Green Lantern uniform is really just a recolor of his old one. It doesn’t take Hal long at all to connect the dots. “Robin?”

Dick wraps his arms around himself and doesn’t bother to deny the obvious. “Not anymore,” he mutters. 

Hal releases a strangled laugh. “Holy shit. Batsy is not going to like this.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” 

“I’m surprised he hasn’t confiscated the ring from you yet.”

“I kinda… left without telling him? Or anyone else for that matter.” Which he could admit was probably a bad decision, but in Dick’s defense it has been a very strange 48 hours, and he hasn’t caught a wink of sleep in three days. Sue him. “They think I’m backpacking. I would appreciate it if you didn’t spill the beans either.”

Hal whistled, his brows raised high. “Jesus kid, you sure are something. You do understand this isn’t a game right? That ring, the job it entails, isn’t something you can just take off like the Robin costume.”

“Are you going to tell me I’m too young to do this, too?” Dick snaps back at him.

But unlike most adults in his life, Hal doesn’t. “The ring chose you. But you have a choice too, and I want you to know that.”

Suddenly, Dick is nine years old again, and Hal is replaced by a younger Bruce, who asks the very same question. 

Dick smiles. His answer is the same as then. “Alright,” he says. “I understand.”

“Good,” Hal says and claps his shoulder kindly. “Then let’s get you up to speed. I’ll show you the ropes while I can. Should I call you Robin?”

Dick hesitates for a second but then shakes his head. “It’s Dick. Dick Grayson.” 

It feels weird to use that name while in costume, but just one more thing he’ll have to get used to, Dick reasons mentally. 

Hal barks a laugh like many do when they learn his preferred nickname. “Well then, Dick. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.”

—- 

The training is hard, but not harder than anything Batman put him through during his childhood. He’s the best cadet when it comes to fighting, easily on the same level as some of his instructors. But when it comes to creating constructs, he’s downright miserable. He keeps going to his non-existent utility belt every time one of the other trainees throws something at him. 

“You have to will the weapon into existence, Poozer,” Kilowog barks at him when he fails to produce anything worthwhile again. 

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder, then!” He says, although there is a kindness to his taunts. “Don’t get angry, you’re not a Red Lantern. Mind over matter!”

Dick gets up and tries again. And again, and again, until he finally is able to let go of some of Batman's training and use his imagination over his reason. 

He traps the other cadet in a huge circus tent, complete with clowns, elephants, and trapeze artists. It’s not an exact replica of the one in his memories, but it’s effective. He feels a little lighter, looking at this image of his youth, and then realizes that no— that isn’t a metaphor, he’s actually floating. 

When he looks at Kilowog, his new teacher is smiling at him proudly. “Took you long enough, Lantern Grayson.” 

— 

Oa has a different day/night cycle than Earth, and the constant training and stream of information doesn’t make it any easier to keep track of time. It’s maybe his own fault for wanting to learn everything at once, but you know what they say? Once an overachieving bat, always an overachieving bat. There is peace in the challenge, in learning and training every single day until he is too tired to think or god forbid dream at night. His life is a bit of a mess, but it’s a good kind of mess.

Dick is fairly sure that he’s been gone from Earth for a month by the time he sees Hal again. “Your dad is searching for you.” 

“He’s not my dad,” Dick scoffs automatically. ‘I’m not Jason.’ 

Hal’s smile turns infuriating. “Yet you knew exactly who I meant.”

Dick opens his mouth to reply to that, but can’t find the words. It shouldn’t sting, because Dick is at least as much to blame for his lack of adoption as Bruce is. But it does, even if Dick can’t entirely understand why himself. 

He sighs and makes a nice, comfortable chair for himself with his ring. “Did you tell him?”

Hal shakes his head. “I reported to the Justice League there is a new Green Lantern in training for the sector, but I didn’t tell them your name. They didn’t ask any questions.”

“Thanks,” Dick replies, trying to smile gratefully. He is grateful, and yet... 

“Look, there is no love lost between me and Batsy. Honestly, I don’t understand how you survived that long under him as you did. I would go crazy before the second week.”

Dick frowns deeply. “He’s a good man.” 

“That I never doubted,” Hal says slowly. “He’s just not very pleasant.”

“He’s not bad, when you get to know him.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Hal leaves him with the promise to show him some moves tomorrow, and Dick spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in his bed, remembering the good old days. It hurts more than it has any right to. 

— 

He’s by far the youngest cadet, but that doesn’t stop him from taking the lead in their missions. At first, his fellow trainees resent him for it but after he’s proven his worth and experience despite his age, they mellow out. He’s always been quick to make friends, although his new ones don’t erase the hollowness he feels every time he thinks of the Titans.

But it isn’t all bad. His uniform may have changed, but he’s still doing what he's been doing for nearly a decade: helping people, saving the world. Sure, it’s no longer his world he’s saving, but that hardly matters. With every disaster they prevent and every life they save, Dick feels a little more like himself. It takes a while to find his footing, but one day he falls asleep and realizes that despite the grief and pain still nipping at his heels, he feels happy too. 

And then there is the best part: he can fly! If only his parents could see him now. Dick hopes that wherever they are, they’re proud of him. 

His class graduates Bootcamp with flying colors after what Dick estimates to have been three or four months by Earth standards. Hal is at the short ceremony, and so is the other Green Lantern from Earth, Guy Gardner. He is exactly as bad as Batman always said he was, but also hilariously funny and surprisingly insightful, at times. 

When they officially proclaim him a Green Lantern, surrounded by his fellow students, Dick doesn’t feel lonely anymore. The bright light inside him shines again, which has nothing to do with the green lantern painted across his chest. It’s a shred of Robin’s magic — of hope — that he had thought he’d lost a long time ago.

Dick actually loses track of Earth time once the training wheels are off and his real work as a Green Lantern starts. Ironically it’s a lot like backpacking, only instead of driving a car across America, Lantern Grayson flies all over Sector 2814 to save the proverbial day. It appeals to his circus roots to travel from place to place, yet helping people, giving them hope again, is what really keeps him going. Before long he’s enjoying his job in a way he never could as Robin. Gotham was — is, will always be — a desolate place. Gordon wasn’t wrong when he said crime would always be there, and more than once Dick wondered if what they did as Batman and Robin mattered at all. On the worst nights, the nights where they came back to the cave beaten and bloody with little to show for it, he felt like they were trying to empty an ocean with a thimble.

Being a Green Lantern is different. Space is bigger than Dick can ever fully comprehend, but every time he leaves a place it is with the knowledge he’s made a positive change. People cheer when they see him coming, flock to him for help. The symbol on his chest is a shining beacon, opposed to the darkness he used to cloak himself in. 

Most of the time, that feels pretty good. He’s never been in the game for recognition or fame, but some appreciation is nice right up until the moment when it isn’t. Sometimes his hands tremble, his willpower wavers and his light fades, and he feels like fraud until he’s up in space again. Only when the universe stretches infinitely around him, wrapping him up in darkness in a way that still feels more comfortable than it has any right to be, does he feel like himself again. He can almost smell the fumes, hear cars racing by, feel a shadow larger than life looming over him. 

Oa isn’t home like Gotham or the circus was, but at least he gets to sleep under the stars and party with the rest of the Corps whenever he touches ground. Hudson University — or wherever Bruce had wanted to send him — can’t come close to that.

Years pass, and instead of getting a major in law, math or whatever, Dick saves the world. Several worlds, actually, several times. It’s what superheroes do. He meets all kinds of people, super-powered and not. He teams up with an alien princess and even dates her for a while. He makes a ton of friends, gets into trouble more than once, and changes history without even knowing it.

Years pass and Dick doesn’t visit Earth even once. It’s not necessarily by choice: Hal and John have that part of the sector down for years, and Dick never applies for a holiday. His superiors applaud his work ethic, but Guy chews him out for being a coward. It’s not very effective: his lecturing skills have nothing on Batman. Somewhere around his nineteenth birthday, Guy eventually tries a different tactic: getting him drunk for the first and hopefully the last time in his life. Dick doesn’t recall what secrets he divulged that night, but Guy doesn’t pressure him to go home again after, and life goes on. There is always a crisis somewhere. 

He almost forgets all about it. Probably would have, if not for the little comment Hal makes two months later at a rare joint mission. Dick is rising through the ranks quickly, but he’s nowhere near Hal’s level yet, and as such they rarely team-up. When it happens, it’s pretty cool, right up until the moment where Hal casually mentions that Guy isn’t allowed to come close to Earth any time soon because apparently, he had gotten into a fistfight with one of the Justice League’s founding members and Guardians considered that a violation of one of their rules. The smile on Hal's face betrays that he doesn’t think Guy had been wrong though, and Dick changes the subject pretty quickly after that.

His mother used to say: once the seed of an idea has been planted, you can’t cut away the roots, only the growth. She hadn’t been talking about interstellar travel and the benefits of visiting one’s home planet every now and then, but that hardly mattered. She was right, and eventually the ache for green grass, neon lights and cloudy skies becomes too much. 

His superior looks at him oddly when he takes the rough equivalent of ten days off. In the weeks leading up to his break, Dick spends many sleepless nights among the stars, thinking of what he will say to his friends. To Alfred. To Bruce.

I’m sorry for leaving, it wasn’t (entirely) my choice? 

Oh, Roy would punch him for that one for sure. 

I don’t have a fixed address, but if you throw a message in a bottle up in space I’ll probably find it somehow? 

Nah, most of his friends wouldn’t get the joke or worse, actually attempt it either sincerely or out of spite. 

Bruce, I missed you so much I could barely breathe some days? I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough? I’m sorry I became something you hate? I'm sorry--

Good luck getting those words out of his throat without dying. Or getting Bruce to listen to him being emotionally vulnerable for more than 2.4 seconds. 

In the end Dick decides that Guy was right. Sue him. He’s on a break. He can be a coward for ten days. He doesn’t go to Gotham, or even New York. He flies to Earth without bothering to check where he's going before he touches the ground. 

Ethiopia is as good a place to land as any.

Dick travels around for a bit pretending to be a dumb American tourist, actively keeping himself from diving into an internet cafe to research himself in fear of setting off any paranoid bat sensors. He’s bored out of his mind within four days, not in the least because he can’t seem to catch a wink of sleep. At night his skin itches while his mind races, and Dick wonders if it’s because of all the skeletons in his closet or simply because his Green Lantern lifestyle has graduated him from a moderate adrenaline junkie to a serious adrenaline addict. 

Just when Dick is contemplating the pros and cons of flying to Wayne Manor with a bag of Shahee Tea as a peace offering for Alfred, he overhears a kid with a distinctive Gotham trying to haggle some information out of a concerned police officer. He quickly sweeps in without thinking, pretending to be the kid’s older brother before the officer takes the teenager into custody. After treating the kid to dinner afterward, finds out that the guy is looking for his long-lost mother. The kid is only halfway through his story when Dick agrees to help him. It takes a bit longer until he has the kid convinced he needs his help, too. 

And just like that, Dick’s holiday changes into a wicked game of Clue mixed with Hide and Seek that is remarkably like his early days as Robin. Peter — and Dick pretends not to notice that it’s a fake name for the sake of the kid’s pride — is fucking hilarious. A good kid with a good heart and a better bite. Packs a mean punch too, but then again, you have to if you want to survive in Gotham to the tender age of fifteen. He’s bright like a solar flare and although he tries to play it cool, he's kind and desperate for some kind of recognition. Dick knows the feeling uncomfortably well. 

What follows is a wild goose chase involving a non zero amount of ninjas (Seriously? One of his potential mothers is Lady Shiva? Who is this kid’s dad? How is he still alive?), an unfortunate reveal of his job as a Green Lantern to a less than impressed teenager (I’m sorry Peter that your dad thinks all Green Lanterns are stupid, now do you want to hop on this sweet green ride and not die or what?) and the fucking Joker of all people. It's the most fun Dick has had in years.

They don’t find Peter’s mom before Dick’s ten-day leave is up, but they do put the clown into a max security prison and manage to escape an exploding warehouse, so not all is lost.

“When do I see you again?” Peter asks while they eat some Mesir Wat in a park in Addis Ababa, trying hard and failing not to sound heartbroken. “I mean, not that I care. But I worry about your ass, you know. Some lady might try to get you to marry her daughters again.” 

“That was one time!” Dick shrieks. 

“You should have just said no and walked away. Or flipped her the bird or something.”

“She was old and very insistent. It would have been impolite!” And Dick is trying to be a good role model to this kid, who obviously needs it if he's willing to jump into the fray after Dick without hesitation.

Peter rolls his eyes dramatically. “Who cares! You’re going off into space anyway within like, an hour. Nobody’s going to remember you, John.”

“That’s not the point of manners,” Dick lectures. A pang of homesickness shoots through him that is distinctly Alfred shaped. 

For some reason, Peter doesn't argue with him after that. There is a strange look on the kid’s face that reminds him of something he can’t quite place. It’s not the first time. It goes against his every instinct not to do some research on the kid, to make sure he’s taken care of, but he doesn't. Early on in their partnership, they had established a single rule: if John doesn't ask any questions, then neither does Peter.

Besides, Peter is right: he doesn’t belong to this world anymore. Not exclusively anyway. There is only so much he can do, and Peter is not his responsibility. He doesn't have the means nor the time to take care of him. The kid is pretty self-sufficient for a teen. Must be a Gotham thing. 

Still, it doesn't sit well with Dick. In the end, Dick settles on an almost brotherly shoulder hug. “You’re going to be okay without me, kiddo? Should I drop you off in Gotham?” 

Peter looks at him alarmed. “How did you know I’m from Gotham?” 

“You talk like a Gotham street kid that swallowed a thesaurus.” 

Peter nearly chokes on his food, and Dick laughs at his expense until Peter starts threatening to make him choke on his food for entirely different reasons.

“You don’t have to drop me off,” Peter says eventually. “I haven’t found my mom, you know. I’m not going to quit now.” 

“Her trail led us to the Joker. Are you sure you want to meet her?” 

“I’m not afraid. I just want answers. No, I need them. I’m going to get them, even if it kills me.” 

The determination in Peter’s voice is nothing compared to the willpower reflected in his eyes, and the only thing on Dick’s mind is ‘wow, this kid could be a better Green Lantern than me one day.’ 

Peter misinterprets Dick’s silence as a doubt. “I’m not looking for a comfortable home, or love. I had a pretty great mom once, and my father is the best, even if he’s a bit of a standoffish asshole sometimes.” 

“Relatable,” Dick mutters, and then quickly changes the subject. “You’ve been in Ethiopia for two weeks, right? Your dad must be really worried by now.” 

Peter avoids his eyes. “Maybe. If he even noticed I’m gone yet. I kind of lied and said I was going to some kind of summer camp.” 

“Maybe you should call him.” 

“He’ll just get angry.” 

Dick smiles. “Maybe. But if he loves you, he’ll listen to you when you explain to him why this is so important to you.” 

“You don’t know him. He’s more stubborn than the fucking wind.” 

“Pot, meet kettle.” 

Peter punches his shoulder viciously. “You’re one to talk! You’re like, the second most stubborn guy I’ve ever met!” 

“Then you need to get out and meet more people, Little Wing,” Dick replies fondly.

“Shut up and fly off into space already!” 

“I will. But next time I come home, you better be terrorizing the streets of Gotham instead of harassing some poor Ethiopian police officer. And trust me, I will find out if you’re not. I’m a superhero after all,” Dick says, only half-seriously. 

“Hey, that was one time!” Jason shrieks. 

Dick only ruffles his hair in response, marveling at how easily the kid is embarrassed. 

He manages to get Peter to promise him to at least text his guardian before his ring starts blinking into life, demanding his return to Oa. 

“Thanks Peter,” he says before he can think too much about it. “I didn’t think there was anything left for me on the planet to return to, but you’ve proven me wrong.” 

Peter isn’t any better at being vulnerable than he is, but he does give Dick the best hug he’s had in years, even if it is a bit awkward. Neither of them make any promises they can’t keep, but when Dick finally transforms and flies off into space, he’s already planning for his next holiday. Maybe he'll actually visit Gotham next time. 

“How was your holiday?” Kilowog asks him when he gets back to Oa. 

“I feel like a changed man,” Dick half-jokes. There is a new light in his chest that makes his heart beat a little stronger, but at the same time an unsettling feeling has bloomed up in his chest: doubt. He shrugs it off and does what he always does: dive deep back into work and never looks back. There is always another crisis. 

Predictably, ignorance doesn't work for long. He can’t shake off the feeling that he doesn’t quite belong. He never got used to people calling him Lantern Grayson, but it’s only after being just a regular old human for a while again — or as close as Dick Grayson could ever pass for one — that he realizes that maybe there is some hidden truth behind that. He meditates on it often, citing the oath of the Green Lanterns over and over again. His ring complains from time to time that he has insufficient willpower, which is just rude, but not entirely wrong. He talks about it with some of his fellow Green Lanterns. Some of them understand, while others just call it a consequence of his youth. A restlessness he’ll get over in time. He’s young, they tell him. Give it time to settle into your bones.

Dick tries to do just that, and keeps going, doing the right thing, but the feeling doesn’t fade.

Until he meets Saint Walker. Their mission takes him to the planet of Odym, the home of the Blue Lantern Corps. Then, like puzzle pieces, everything slowly falls into place. 

— 

Little does Dick know that he’s not the only thing that has changed. When Jason Peter Todd-Wayne returns home from Ethiopia a week later — a little bruised and grounded for life, rather than tortured to death — and the old family butler asks him a similar question, he says the same thing. 

“I feel like a changed man, Alfie.”

“I see. And was that because of the fact that you scared your father to death or because the meeting with your birth mother was less than satisfactory?” 

Jason folds his arms in front of his chest. “Bruce needs to chill with the overprotectiveness. I went to Ethiopia, not Venus or something like he does literally all the time.” 

“He just worries about you, dear boy. After what happened to Master Richard…” Alfred trails off, like he always does when Bruce’s former ward is mentioned. At least Alfred mentions his name: Bruce only expresses his concern in an unwavering search for his former sidekick and long, icy brooding sessions in front of Richard's old Robin suit, which he propped up in a case like some kind of weird memorial. “We couldn’t bear to lose you too.” 

Jason couldn’t stop himself from balling his fists even if he wanted to. “But I’m not him!” 

“I know, Jason.” 

“Do you? Does Bruce? Because every time he looks at me, I feel like he’s seeing the wrong Robin. He always did.” 

Alfred sighs deeply, stops what he was doing in favor of sitting down next to Jason. “He loves you.”

“I know that! But I want him to respect me too for who I am, not just for who I am not!” Jason shouts and kicks the air fruitlessly. Then, an idea forms in his mind. “And I don’t think that’s ever going to happen while I’m Robin. Maybe… maybe it’s time for a change.”

Jason’s eyes sparkle for days after that revelation. Once the seed of an idea has been planted you can’t cut away the roots, but that doesn’t stop Bruce from trying. It is an exercise in futility that eventually only manages to drive his second Robin — his second son — further away. 

Jason lives. And just like that, history changes. 

— 

Dick resigns from the Green Lantern Corps less than a month later.

“Are you sure about this, kid?” Hal asks him, dead serious. Not like last time, when he thought the idea of Robin becoming a Green Lantern, and how much that would piss off Batman, was hilarious.

Somehow, that seems like light years ago. Dick nods and smiles brightly. “Haven’t been this sure about anything in a long time.” 

Hal smiles, not a cocky smile, but a more rare one that Dick feels fortunate to have been bestowed upon. “Well, if it doesn’t work out…” 

“Then I’ll pack up and join the US air force. I mean, if they took you, then they’ll definitely accept me,” Dick teases.

Hal rolls his eyes, and just like that, the awkwardness is gone. “Ha! Grayson, you wouldn’t last a month there. You’re too stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one,” Dick answers good-naturedly, a fondness swirling in his chest. It’s not sadness, per se, but it’s enough to make his eyes water a bit. He clears his throat and pushes it all away. “Thanks, Hal. For…. well... you know. For everything.” 

“No kid, thank you. See you around. We work well together, I can’t imagine that will change much now that you’re joining the other side.” 

Dick rolls his eyes and pretends he doesn’t notice the affection in Hal’s voice. “I haven’t been accepted yet, you know.” 

Hal’s laugh echoes through Dick’s former, now-empty room. “Kid, anyone would be crazy to turn you down. You’re the greatest sidekick of all time.” 

“Not a sidekick,” Dick corrects him for the nth time. “A partner.” 

— 

His second initiation into a Lantern Corps is very different from the first. He isn’t just whisked away to a different planet, but instead Saint Walker brings him on a borrowed spaceship that Dick steps into entirely of his own volition. When he reaches Odym there are only a handful of other Lanterns present, and rather than a strictly organized world packed with Green Lanterns, this place is tranquil. It's almost holy. There is no Bootcamp either, but instead he is bestowed a new ring after days of discussing the meaning and power of hope.

“Richard John Grayson of Earth,” the blue ring says in a calming tone. “You learned to hold onto hope despite your past. You move forward with faith in tomorrow. You instill that trust in those around you. Despite the odds, you never stop. You have the ability to instill great hope.” 

A warm light envelopes him and Dick feels reborn. 

“Welcome to the Blue Lantern Corps. What will be your name?” 

“Nightwing.” 

And just like that, history changes again. But the more things change, the more things stay the same.

—

"In fearful day, in raging night,

With strong hearts full, our souls ignite.

When all seems lost in the War of Light,

Look to the stars, for hope burns bright!"