Chapter Text
Another day, another problem. Dick was getting sick of everyone's attitudes and he knew, knew that was his problem. Because it wasn’t like everyone had magically changed over night. He was the one who had changed really, he was the one who was no longer in a mood for games. Maybe it was because he was burnt out, that’s what Alfred had suggested.
Maybe he deserved a break but he had someone to live up to, someone to impress. Batman didn’t take breaks- so neither did Nightwing. It wasn’t like he hated his brothers, he loved them all the same. He was just tired, he was just feeling that same itch. The one he got around this time of year. It was the month of March after all and tomorrow would be the first of April, the day he hated the most of all.
April Fools, a joke- a cruel and painful joke, the kind that made you think life wasn’t worth it. The night sky above the manor was blood red; the sun looked like the yellow yolk of the egg he’d eaten that morning and eventually thrown up later that day. Alfred must’ve known, seeing it on his face because when lunch came around he just passed Dick a small cup of vitamins and a bottle of water.
His brothers had been too busy arguing over who was smarter, faster, tougher to notice. So after his lunch of vitamins he’d made his way up to his favorite place to hide in the manor when he was upset. The roof, and that’s where he stayed. It was the only place he could truly escape to without his brothers knowing his whereabouts. No one knew about the roof except maybe Alfred. And he didn’t care all that much- not after the years Dick had spent climbing up to the roof as a kid to hide when Bruce was in one of his moods. Alfred knew it was like a safe space for him, his own robin nest.
So he spent the afternoon working on his tan. Snoozing on the roof with a blanket laid out under him. Watching the sun travel in the sky- watching the hours tick by. The clouds bounced in the wind, the kind that formed shapes and stories in his mind. In a couple hours it would be the first of April. Then Dick would allow himself to think of it- the “The Great Fall.” The most pivotal event of his life, the day his parents fell and never got back up.
Bruce no doubt was in the cave, some case needed attending to. Some of The Justice League was off-world and Barry had sent in some information that needed looking into. Something about an alien king’s assasination, The Lanterns, and a precious stone. Dick wasn’t in the mood for another off-world mission he’d been on four this year already.
The first one had been with Kori and some of the old Titans, they’d gone to Trigon’s hell dimension, Kori passed away on that mission. Then he went on a secret mission with M’gann to Mars to fight a race of underground Martians who had formed a dangerous cult. After that he’d gone to the past and been stuck there for awhile trying to help his younger self defeat a Time god who was attempting to destroy the Justice League before it’d even been formed. And the last one, the most recent one had been complete shit- he and Conner had been captured by a bunch of Bizzaro world barbarians and trapped in a parallel universe where Dick was a supervillain and had killed Batman.
He didn’t care for the idea of going off world after that. Bruce had offered to zeta him to Green Lantern who seemed appreciative and he hated letting people down but... Bruce’s offers were more like carefully worded commands. But for once Dick said no. And instead of an “I get it you’re struggling right now” or a “hey that’s okay maybe next time.” Bruce had scowled and then grunted one of those “I’m disappointed” grunts. He didn’t care, Dick tried to convince himself that the judgemental looks from his brothers and the annoyance in Bruce’s eyes didn’t bother him. But they did, so he’d hidden away on the roof. No one else could get to the roof, not as easily as him.
It was his safe space, Alfred had stopped him on his way down the hall asking if he needed anything. Alfred was a saint, Alfred always understood, but he’d pushed him away. Saying he just needed some time alone, he was going on a hike around the estate trails. They both knew it was a lie but Al just gave him a pat on the back and let him walk away.
The touch felt nice, comforting. Skinship, physical touch, it gave him a feeling of release and stability and Bruce knew that. But he wasn’t a little kid anymore and he couldn’t ask for hugs or cuddles with grabby palms and teary eyes. His pride wouldn’t allow it, he didn't want to see the awkward face Bruce would make. Besides they’d grown too far apart- a ift between father and son. That turned them into mere coworkers of sorts though sometimes he felt like Bruce’s ex wife who pulled most of the weight in the child rearing department. So skinship between the two of them was out of the question. Though he did initiate it with his mostly reluctant brothers at times. Lately though he felt more touch starved than usual, he always did around this time of year. Death anniversaries and all that jazz got him feeling sentimental and lonely.
It felt like no one cared or bothered to remember. But then again Dick didn’t bother to remind them. Alfred knew, he kept track of things like that: dates were important to him since he kept a tight schedule. Bruce, he was always in his own world. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d forgotten nor the last. And that hurt because every October Dick always made sure he was there beside his dad. Even if Bruce didn’t sob in his arms or vent his feelings Dick made sure he smiled. Tried to make the month easier with things like random hugs, jokes, and stories about the past when he had been Robin. Fond memories of the two of them kicking ass ‘till dawn or they’d go fishing at the pound on the estate.
Dick was always there for him- he stayed the entire month of October, pushed off his work in Bludhaven, with Young Justice, The Titans, The League and just existed as someone Bruce could always come home to. Someone who would always be there and wasn’t going to wind up dead in an alley somewhere. In October Bruce became a recluse even though Alfred had trouble managing him. But Dick would go on patrol with him or for him if the Bat wasn’t feeling up to getting out of bed that day. He’d attend any Wayne Enterprise meetings that Bruce loathed going to.
So it felt like a slap in the face when April came around and Bruce would just… Avoid him. Or forget all together but Dick tried to think positively, even going as far to blame himself for not saying anything. Sometimes he could convince himself that it wasn’t Bruce’s fault. He was emotionally stunted and vacant. He tried sometimes. Just other times he let himself forget or forced himself too, probably because it was a sore reminder of his own parents. But sitting on the roof and watching the sunset all Dick could think about was that he always tried while Bruce would scoot by on less than half the effort he put in. Sometimes, well most of the time it felt like he was the only one that cared.
When Jason had outbursts or breakdowns Dick was always there to pick up the pieces. To remind him that he and everyone else loved him despite his faults, that they were sorry they hadn’t tried harder to look for him. When Damian would curl into a ball or erupt into rage over the tiniest things- things that reminded him of Ras Ah Ghul or Talia he’d pat his back. Or hold him close whichever the boy allowed him to do at the time. Remind him that he was home, he was safe, and he was cared for and no one would hurt him- ever . When Tim would refuse to sleep because of stress, when Tim had dreams about his parents telling him they were disappointed. When he felt unworthy- or like he was all alone, Dick was there. He’d coax him to bed, sing lullabies in Romi or talk him through his emotions all night until the sun rose and hold him until he fell asleep.
Dick felt like a son in the shoes of a father and his own father was absent when he needed him most. Maybe it was because Bruce didn’t consider him as a son, not after all the arguments- the screaming and fighting. The way he’d ran off never to return but Dick was trying so hard to fix it. He really was but it wasn’t enough so he just feigned ignorance like Bruce did. The older man would grunt or hum in response to his questions or comments and Dick would make jokes. But that was the extent of their relationship. Damian got hugs, Tim got hugs, and Jason refused hugs but would get gentle head pats or shoulder squeezes. Bruce was trying with everyone but him apparently.
Dick knew he needed to grow up and get over it already, he was the eldest son. The one responsible for everyone else, he was burnt out. Alfred was right- he was always right. So when they’d all been having breakfast that morning and Jason called him “Goldie” it hurt because he wasn’t the golden child. Bruce had hated him for a long time at least Jason had an excuse to rebel in Bruce’s eyes Dick had none. In Bruce’s eyes Dick had betrayed and abandoned him. So no he wasn’t the favorite or golden child he was the disappointment.
When Tim had poked fun at him for eating like a bird and Damien had commented that he had “indeed lost some muscle mass.” And Jason had commented: “I’ve always been the strongest one.” Dick had been annoyed and instead of making a joke back just scoffed, stabbing at the remainder of his eggs and bacon with a fork unable to shove anything else down his throat. Because secretly he hated his body- hated when anyone commented on it. Something that had come as a side effect from the whole Tarantula situation. He tried so hard not to think about her words during those long and tearful nights. About how she wanted him to be prettier for her. And it made him squirm his skin itch, Dick tried to shove the sound of her voice out of his ears:
“Querido, you need to stay pretty for me okay? Pretty like this- naked like this just for me. ”
He refused to eat the food before him after that. And Bruce had given him that look, one that said “stop being childish.” So he shoved an egg down his throat and then went upstairs to think about his parent’s bodies hitting the ground. Their skulls cracking like egg shells causing him to run to the bathroom and spew his guts out in the toilet.
It just felt like no one gave a shit about him anymore and maybe he was being sensitive but he had a right to be. Today- no tomorrow was a bad day. The entire month of April was bad and it approached him like an asteroid barreling to Earth ready to smack him with the feelings of longing and sadness he had been avoiding for months now. Because it wasn’t April and he wasn’t going to allow himself to mourn them until April because… That’s what Bruce taught him and now it was stuck in his brain like a tumor. Don’t get sad, don’t let it hurt you- not until the anniversary.
He had been sitting on the roof thinking about it all just mulling in his own self pity when he got the text.
Alfred: Dinner is almost ready sir. You should get down from the roof before someone sees you. Master Damian is looking for you.
He stared at it for a long time, before forcing himself to his feet. If it were anyone else he’d ignore it but this was Alfred, this was the man that always tried. So he flipped off the roof and shimmied down the siding of the house to the ground. In the process he narrowly averted smacking into Damian who was giving him a level headed stare.
“You were on the roof Grayson?”
“Yup,” he smiled down weakly at the boy.
“Why were you on the roof Grayson? How did you even get up there?” Damian asked skeptically and Dick just nudged him with his elbow.
“I’ll teach you one day it’s a Robin trade secret,” He put a finger to his lips.
They walked through the front entrance down into the main hall and past the parlour room to the dining room.
“I’ve never seen Drake or Todd on the roof,” Damien tilted his head and peered up at Dick questioningly.
“I never told them, master’s gotta teach his tricks but not all of his tricks you know?”
“I suppose you’re right, when will you be teaching me this trade secret?”
“Soon, I promise.” He clasped pinky’s with Damien who grinned impishly and Dick heard someone huff behind him.
Jason pushed past them and sat at the table while Tim looked at the two pinky holders with an amused grin.
“What’re you two pinky swearing about over there?”
Damian just smirked, “It’s a secret. A robin secret.” The boy bragged and Jason looked up with a frown.
“Do I know the secret?”
“Nope,” Dick walked past him and sat across from Bruce who was staring at a book in his hands. Something about an alien race- probably The Justice League case Lantern had wanted Dick’s back up for. Pretending to read it and not listen in on their conversation.
“I know the secret right?” Tim asked.
Damian just laughed sitting down next to Dick, “Of course not- this is a robin trade secret for robins only .”
“But- but I am a robin?” Tim said incredulously and looked at Dick expectantly.
“Sorry but no- you’re a Red Robin, very different.” He shrugged.
“I was a Robin,” Jason crossed his arms and huffed from beside Tim.
“Too bad, so sad,” Damian poked his tongue out at the assassin who gave him a sharp look in return.
“Don’t make me cut your tongue off demon spawn-“ He bit back.
Bruce’s brows raised and Damian jumped to his feet ready to lunge across the table before Dick grabbed his arm.
“He’s just jealous Dami don’t let him get into your head,” He patted the young boy’s short hair and surprisingly that was all it took for Damian to become putty in his hands leaning into the familiar touch like a cat.
Bruce hid a smile behind his book and Tim just groaned, “No fair I wanna know even more now. I can’t believe Damien gets to know and I don’t.”
Dick looked at Damien, “Should I…?”
A look of excitement crossed Tim’s face before his hopes were cruelly crushed.
“No! We swore on the pinky Grayson. You taught me that pinky swears are the most sacred of promises!”
“You’re right, you’re completely right Dami. I’m an idiot, how could I forget?” Dick said seriously and Jason huffed.
“Pinky swears are sacred now?” Bruce’s voice said in a light tone obviously amused.
“Of course, they always have been,” Dick replied back coolly.
“I never break a pinky promise- Damian knows that.”
“You’re not even a Robin anymore, why do you get to know the secret?” Jason griped.
Just as Dick opened his mouth to answer, Damian answered for him.
“Because you imbecile he created the secret when he was Robin and now it is passed down to me. A true legacy. ” He put a hand to his chest and then raised his pinky in the air.
Jason muttered a flurry of curses under his breath.
Dick grinned, “Yup. Dami and I have a pinky swearing code if it’s a pinky swear no one else is allowed in on the secret.”
“Not even Batman?” Bruce asked and Damian’s eyes went wide.
“ Especially not Batman!”
“Especially,” Dick confirmed and Bruce feigned a look of disappointment before returning to the book he wasn’t even reading.
“I bet it’s not even that good of a secret,” Tim grumbled.
“Oh it is, it’s a great secret- I’ll give you a hint. It’s a secret ability,” Dick winked at Damien.
“Ability?” Jason grunted.
“Like a power?” Tim asked with wide eyes.
Bruce made a face looking to Dick expectantly from his book.
Damian put his hand over Dick’s mouth, “Hush Grayson they already know too much!”
“Of course, of course you’re right Dami,” Dick nodded seriously.
“This isn’t fair,” Tim pouted.
Alfred walked in with a cart placing trays on the table. It was a larger set up than usual. Probably because it was the first time all four boys were home at the same time since Christmas. It was now April, dick had been on several off-world missions since then. He had been legitimately busy with a couple secret projects of his own. And ever since he’d come back he’d been avoiding Bruce’s simple three to five worded texts, avoiding Tim’s calls, Jason’s bizarre emails, and Damian’s voicemails that usually consisted of him griping about something Bruce had done recently, or the Titans.
There was sliced roast with mashed potatoes and what looked to be grilled asparagus and squash. Alfred even placed a german chocolate cake on the table. Jason’s eyes turned into that of a predator as Alfred sat empty plates and utensils down for all of them, placing the dishes of food at the center of the table.
“The roast to the left is tofu for master Damian,” Alfred said and Damian reached out for the serving utensil at the same time as Jason.
The older man snarled like an animal and Damian backed his hand away scrunching his nose in distaste.
“Master Bruce, books at the table?” Alfred gave him a sharp look and the man placed the book down with a sheepish look.
Alfred was King; he could do whatever and say whatever he wanted.
As Dick watched everyone begin to plate their food he felt himself freezing up. He didn’t expect it because the food smelled amazing but it was hard to even look at the delicious platters of food before him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat, it was just… He didn’t want to throw up the food Alfred had obviously put so much time into making. And his thoughts strayed to an incident, a recent one that involved roast that made his stomach churn.
He’d been called in on a routine domestic dispute in Bludhaven. It was normal for cops to get those kinds of calls so he thought nothing of it. But what he hadn’t expected was for it to turn into pot roast fresh from the oven being flung at his face by a screaming mother as he dragged her daughter's dead body out of a bathtub.
Her husband- Mr. Smith had one of those giant forks like the one Jason was using to grab pieces of roast and stabbed his daughter in the chest. The mother was high on crack and kept shoving the hot meat into his face- fresh out of the oven. And he remembered the blisters that formed on his neck and left cheek.
The way the smell of the girl's rotting body mingled with pot roast made him gag, he just couldn’t deal with it right now. Jason had already begun shoving food down his throat and had stacked his plate high. Damian and Tim were plating food for themselves too and Dick knew that if he didn’t get ahold of himself soon someone would say something. Bruce was spooning mashed potatoes onto a plate while Damian dug into his tofu roast when Jason said something.
“What? You plannin’ to just eat the food with your eyes or somethin’ Dicky?” The second Robin snarked.
Everyone’s head turned to look at him and he gulped, biting his lip. “No, no I’m just. Admiring the view.”
Tim rolled his eyes and Bruce’s gaze flitted to him for a moment and then back to his plate.
He put on a playful smile and reached out, spooning a tiny portion of each food onto his plate. He made sure each dish was separate and as far apart as possible. When he grabbed the giant roast fork he held it in his hand for a moment.
Feeling the weight of it, remembering the giant gashes in the thirteen year old girl’s chest. The way her body had smelled like something festering. And pot roast- rotting flesh and pot roast.
He gently stabbed the smallest piece of roast.
Hanna Smith’s father had stabbed her forty three times with a roast fork.
He placed it gently on his plate as far away from the rest of the tiny spoonfuls of squash and mashed potatoes as possible.
The roast had felt like molten lava on his skin, he’d screamed and Amy could do nothing but stare with wide eyes as the roast and it’s juices were dumped on his head. The mother was screaming as she dumped the broiling pot roast on his body:
“Put my daughter down! Put my baby down!” She screeched.
He dropped the girl's bloody body to the floor in surprise. The heavy thud of her soulless body gives him flashes of his own parents' bodies falling to the ground with a mixture of loud thuds and snaps. There was roast and blood all over his uniform, his mouth tasted like roast, his face stung.
He could feel Alfred’s eyes following every move he made, Damien’s too. And when he stopped to drink a full glass of water before eating Jason suddenly slammed his own cup of water down on the table glaring over at him.
“Jesus what’re you on a diet or something?”
“What do you mean?” Dick feigned innocence and Jason seemed to grow angrier at that.
“I mean you didn’t eat nothin’ yesterday, today it was a single egg for breakfast. At lunch Alf just snuck you some vitamins and you ditched.”
“What? Dick you didn’t eat yesterday? You said you met Cass for a late dinner after patrol,” Tim pouted and Dick grimaced.
“I-I did meet her for dinner-“ he began.
“She texted me. Said you had three cups of black coffee at the diner at three in the morning.” Jason bit back.
Dick could feel everyone’s eyes on him.
“Well I ate today didn’t I? And I’m- I’m eating now,” he pointed to his plate and Tim grimaced.
“You’re eating less than Damian and he’s significantly smaller than you,” He muttered with concern.
“So?”
“So your body needs more calories- so it can keep running doofus,” Tim chided and Damien glared at him.
“Just because Grayson doesn’t have the appetite of a herd of elephants like you two doesn’t mean you can get onto him about eating.” He commented in Dick’s defense and he felt warmth in his chest knowing at least Dami was always on his side.
“Dick when was the last time you ate before breakfast?” Bruce’s voice asked in a stern tone and Dick felt his resolve crumble under the demanding gaze.
“Well- uh- I think it was… I had a protein bar-“
“The protein bar we shared on patrol two days ago?” Damian asked in shock and Dick turned to the boy with wide eyes.
“Well I don’t think it was that long ago,” He put on a nervous smile and Bruce shot him down with a look.
“We’re doing a health check up before patrol tonight,” He grunted.
“What why?” Dick could feel himself sinking; this wasn’t good. He didn’t want anyone to see, to know that he hadn’t been taking care of himself lately. He had tried so hard to hide it and now it felt like everything was spinning out of control.
“Everyone should be doing a health check up then,” Alfred suddenly spoke up and Bruce met eyes with the older man before giving in.
“Alright everyone,” he nodded.
“What? I’m not the one rapidly losing weight here, why the fuck do I gotta do it?” Jason asked begrudgingly.
“Because you brought it up Master Jason. Watch your language,” Alfred snipped back and Dick gave the butler a thankful smile which was returned with one of the elderly man’s own.
Tim whistled, Damian threw Jason a dirty glare which the older returned, and Bruce stared at Dick with an emotionless face before going back to his plate of food.
Dick had no choice now, he had to eat. With much hesitance he began to take tiny bites of the vegetables avoiding the meat on his plate. Sure he could’ve gotten the tofu but it still smelled like roast. He picked around at things, moved the food around on his plate, and chewed each bite as slowly as possible. Hoping they’d all just leave him be but of course someone had to say something. And of course it just had to be Tim the genius of the group. He licked his lips and reached out with his fork.
“If you aren't gonna eat the roast I will,” He offered and Bruce stared at Dick from across the table as he pushed the plate towards his brother with a frantic nod.
Tim took it happily and Damian made a little unhappy grunting noise. “At least eat your vegetables Grayson.”
“I am,” he protested.
“From where I sit it looks like you’re just pushing them around the plate.”
Damian raised a brow and sometimes Dick wished the brat wasn’t so observant because then Bruce was glaring at him. Jason was scoffing and Tim looked guilty when it wasn’t even his fault. Dick just couldn’t eat roast right now because he could smell that girl's body and see the stab wounds in her chest and neck. Even feeling the blood and hot juices on his skin and it was sticky and burned.
“Dick, why aren’t you eating?” Bruce sounded frustrated and rubbed his temples with both hands.
“I-I am eating,” he insisted and the man just let out an exasperated sigh.
Bruce gave his son a commanding look, “Dick. This is childish, eat your food. You aren’t a kid anymore I shouldn’t have to force you-“
“You’re right! I’m not a kid anymore so you can’t force me to do anything!” Dick’s voice raised and he dropped his fork with a loud clatter to the plate.
Tim winced and Damian just stared up at him with large eyes. He didn’t want this, he just wanted to get through this dinner, go on patrol, and then to his parents graves so he could finally let all of the awful feelings brewing in his chest out. Dick just wanted everyone to leave him alone and let him be. Couldn’t they see he was struggling enough already? Didn’t Bruce realize that in a few hours it would be the anniversary of his parents’ deaths and that made it a little harder for him to stomach any food like usual?
“What? Do you want me to bench you tonight? Because that’s where this is heading.” Bruce said emotionlessly and at those words Dick felt something inside explode.
“You may be able to bench the others but not me Bruce. Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m an adult, I make my own decisions! I’ll just go back to Bludhaven if this is how it’s going to be.”
Jason coughed, “I mean, technically I’m an adult too…”
“Can you just shut up? This isn’t about you,” Dick spun around and pointed at the younger man who clamped his mouth shut at the other’s tone of voice. Brows shooting up to his hairline in surprise at Dick’s cold and cruel remark.
He found himself wanting Bruce to yell at him. Wanting his mentor and father figure to take his anger out on him. It was better than being ignored, better than being put on the sidelines for something as dumb as not eating. Then he could have the excuse to leave because Bruce pushed him to it. Like Bruce himself hadn’t done the same when he was Dick’s age. Hell he was more responsible than Bruce had at his age and yet he was still getting shit on!
“If this is how it’s going to be, you leave me no choice. You’re being so stubborn about this when you know the rules Dick. If any of the other boys were acting out I’d bench them too.” He said, crossing both arms over his chest.
Bruce tried to calm his tone as if he didn’t want to start a fight. But it was too late, Dick was fired up now and shit was going to hit the fan. He was tired, so fucking sick of the bullshit Bruce was constantly trying to pull on him.
“You say that now but we both know it isn’t true. We both know you’re always just looking for a reason to put me in my place!” Dick seethed and glared at the man hoping to get some reaction. Something other than the look of disinterest and disappointment he saw recently.
Bruce scoffed, “That’s because you’re always trying to test my leadership and break the rules.”
“I’m not trying to break anything. I don’t know if you remember this but back when I was Robin, there weren’t any fucking rules! I could do whatever the hell I wanted! I could not eat for days and still be allowed to go toe to toe with the Joker. I would get like four hours of sleep a week and still go off to the Mountain and do reconnaissance with Young Justice. I’m not pushing anything! I’m just holding myself to the standard you held me to!” He shouted in rage and the others all but Alfred looked at Bruce with wide eyes.
“You let him do that?” Jason asked, rage clearly indicated on his face.
Dick smacked his hand down on the table, “You never cared back then! So don’t get mad at me for not expecting you to care now!”
“Dick please, you need to calm down,” Tim said with a hint of fear in his voice and Dick just looked around at the faces of everyone at the table.
Alfred looked stunned, Damian was staring up at Dick with these wide eyes, and Jason looked like he wanted to punch something. Even Tim seemed disturbed staring down at the table with a forlorn expression, his fingers clenching around his fork tightly.
Bruce looked more tired than Dick had seen him in years. “I’ve changed Dick, you know that.”
“Why? Because now you have kids you actually give a shit about? Was I not worth the trouble?” Dick shook his head and let out a dry chuckle.
“Richard-” Alfred chose to forgo the title of “master” and reached out. Dick just stood abruptly to his feet with narrowed eyes.
Alfred’s hand was on his shoulder gently squeezing like an anchor in the storm. His touch brought Dick back down to earth as he stared around at his brothers and then at the food on his plate.
“Nevermind, forget I said anything.”
He sat back down in his seat and shoved the food on his plate down his mouth. It tasted like sand, mush- he didn’t even want to eat. But he didn’t want to be benched either. He didn't want to lose the one thing that gave him some sort of purpose in this world on the eve of his parents’ death anniversary. This patrol was important to him because it gave him a distraction, something to do other than focus on his own self pity.
Everyone at the table silently watched him finish his meal in haste and then stand back up. “I’m done, can I go suit up now?”
He looked over at Bruce expectantly and the older man’s jaw clenched as he spoke, “We’re doing a health check up before patrol. Everyone is, no gear on. Strip down.”
Bruce stood up unexpectedly and so did the others, so dinner was cut short. Because of Dick, because he just couldn’t shove the food down his gullet without a fight. He felt a pang of sympathy for the others and Jason gave him a look as they all followed their father towards the sliding grandfather clock upstairs and down into the cave.
There they all changed into boxers as Bruce instructed Alfred to prepare things for their check ups. Dick felt something wrenching tightly in his chest, the anxiety of the check up always held fast to him since childhood. He’d never liked the fact that at Bruce’s whim he was forced to be weighed, give blood samples, and other random tests. But he’d always known the man did it because he cared but now it felt like a threat, like a promise to bench him if he found anything he didn’t like.
He still remembered when he was young, maybe his late teens and Bruce had found traces of mdma in his system and completely lost it, only to later shut his mouth when Dick explained to him that someone at his highschool had slipped a pill in his drink and he’d had to stumble out of a stranger’s bed down the street in a haze with nothing but boxers and socks on. With a sigh he watched as Alfred took blood samples, blood pressure, and then checked their eyes with a tiny flashlight.
It was when the weigh in time came that he felt his heart begin to race. Jason stood still on the scale crossing both arms as Alfred wrote down his weight on a chart and reported it to Bruce just like he’d done with their blood pressure. Apparently Jason’s blood pressure was high while Dick’s was low, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. At least Alfred seemed not to be too worried saying it wasn’t still anything to worry about.
Damian went next, the boy had gained weight and gotten a few inches taller Alfred had noted. And Damian pumped a fist in the air as Tim pushed him off the scale ready to get it over with already. His weight was the same as it had been before, and Alfred noted so while Bruce gave a nod. Dick went last and he couldn’t help but think that Bruce was making him go last on purpose, so the others could gawk and judge him together. He stepped foot on the scale and made sure to roll his eyes in Bruce’s direction. Alfred stared at the scale for a moment and then pulled off his glasses to take a closer look- not a good sign.
“Mast Dick has weighed in at one hundred fifty-four pounds,” He muttered and Dick shrugged, not quite sure what he was before anyways but Bruce shattered his little moment of triumph.
“What was he before Alfred?”
“I’m sorry, what was that Master Bruce?” The elderly man responded despondent and Dick winced at the tone. It was as if Alfred was trying to protect him from Bruce's wrath because he knew something wasn’t good.
“I asked what he weighed in before,” Bruce said coldly, eyeing Dick’s body closely.
“Well his last weigh in was a few months ago. Since then Master Dick has been on a few missions off world and you know how that affects the body-”
“He’s been here at least two months, that's enough time to get back to normal body mass,” Bruce snapped back and Dick licked his lips looking over sympathetically to Alfred.
“It’s alright Alf- lay it on me doc,” He joked and he winced when no one laughed.
“Two hundred-one,” Alfred said quietly and Dick grimaced looking over at Bruce’s expression.
He didn’t seem pleased and Jason walked over looking Dick up and down. “I told you- he looks scrawny more than when I first met him as Nightwing. That was years ago.”
Damian shrugged, “He’s an acrobat. They’re usually thinner than bodybuilders like yourself Todd, besides it’s not as if he isn’t in fighting shape. We've been going on patrol together and he’s been fine. Faster even.”
He gave Damian a wink in thanks and Tim as the next to speak up, “That’s still not normal. He lost almost fifty pounds in a few months, Damian. The boy scowled and looked up at Dick with a roll of his eyes.
“Weight fluctuates, that’s normal. Maybe he’s just been doing more cardio and less weight lifting. Why does it matter? I told you all I've been fighting side by side with Grayson for the past couple of months and he’s been just fine. Better even, he’s just as quick and nimble as I am and that’s a true compliment.” The youngest stood up for his elder brother and Dick appreciated his attempt at defending him.
He looked over to Bruce and the man gave him a piercing stare, “Are you trying to lose weight Dick?”
“What? No, I don’t even know how I lost all that weight to be honest. I mean I noticed my suit was getting a little loose but I just thought it was because I kept skipping breakfast and lunch back in Bludhaven.”
“Skipping breakfast and lunch?” Damian repeated in disbelief.
“How are you even able to work as a cop and a vigilante at the same time if you aren’t eating?” Tim asked in shock.
“I am eating- I mean, I have food at my house guys. Tell ‘em Dami.”
Damian gave him a look. “Every time I go to Grayson’s he only has cereal and no milk so we just order take out.”
“Dick have you been eating only dry cereal for the past couple of months?” Bruce asked in an accusatory tone.
“What? No, sometimes I eat with my coworkers- I don’t know man the days kinda blur into night. You know how it is,” He shrugged.
Bruce just sighed but nodded. He of all people understood what Dick meant. But that doesn't mean he was happy about it.
“Master Dick seems to have inherited your lack of self preservation Master Bruce.” Alfred chimed in with a wink to Dick and he just smirked.
“Exactly, it’s not my fault you should blame yourself!”
He said so playfully but when he looked up into his mentor and father’s eyes he didn’t see the usual disgruntled scowl of annoyance. No he looked… Guilty. And that made Dick cringe, he hadn’t meant to hurt Bruce’s feelings it was a joke. A badly worded joke but- seriously he hadn’t meant any harm by it.
“ Kidding B, I’m just busy lately lotsa stuff has been going down in Bludhaven. New mafia in town and whackos running a mutant trafficking ring. Plus you know how corrupt the police are there, I’m just trying to mop up a bunch of messes. So I’m a bit stretched thin but I’ll try to put on some pounds- carb load, that’s what it’s called right Jason?”
The younger scoffed but nodded as he loaded rubber bullets into his pistols.
Tim shrugged, “I think Dick’s just being scattered brained as usual Bruce.”
“Exactly! I’m just stupid- I agree with the kid. I’ve never been on the bright side, you know that B.” Nightwing shrugged as Damian reached out for his uniform.
“If you won’t talk then I won’t make you,” Bruce sighed and Dick grinned.
“Great! Let’s get ready for patrol then! Dami wanna warm up on the trapeze with me?” He looked over to the scowling boy who just looked over to his blood father with annoyance.
“Fine, but we’re loading up on snacks after patrol. I’m not letting you waste away on my watch Grayson. It’s unbecoming of a warrior.” He crossed his arms as Dick got zipped up into his suit with a laugh.
“Good thing I’m not a warrior, more like a child soldier turned puppet lieutenant.” He pranced away and caught the tail end of a conversation between Jason and Bruce.
“-better keep an eye on him,” Bruce said sternly.
“That’s not my job,” Jason sassed.
“Don’t look at me like that papa bat sheesh. Fine, fine.” Jason resigned and Dick rolled his eyes pointing up hauling himself up the ladder to swing up on the trapeze with Damian.
Everyone got dressed in silence. He looked over his shoulder to the hulking figure of Bruce zipping up his suit and already tying up his boots. Gloves, gauntlets, and utility belt being snapped into place while Tim did the same. The two of them were muttering about something Dick couldn’t hear with the rush of the wind in his ears. Swing from one bar to the next in a series of twists and flips that made his heart thump hard in his chest. He looked down to the net below himself and Damian, far, far below. If only his parents had used the net that night, if only- Dick tried not to focus on the if’s not tonight. When the anniversary was so steadily approaching. He couldn’t lose sanity now, beating the shit out of goons was the only thing he was looking forward to for the next couple of days, the only thing keeping him alive. And Bruce was just being his usual uncaring self having forgotten about his son’s tragic day, tragic month.
He tried not to think too badly of Bruce, he knew he was a good person deep down. The guy was just really bad at showing his love, it was just his way. He’d gotten better over the years of course but it still lacked luster when it came to Dick. Kind of strange and awkward as if he didn’t know how to approach him or interact with him anymore. Sometimes he missed his old Robin days, things were simpler. They could just ignore each other all day, beat bad guys, and wrap it up with a mug of hot chocolate and a report before heading to bed. It was shitty, the way things had turned out between Bruce and him but he supposed it was better than Jason’s situation so he tried not to complain. Tried to keep his mouth shut and just deal with it, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. But the one thing everyone expected him to do as the eldest so he played pretend. Acted as the “Golden boy” Jason deemed him to be and pushed his feelings of sadness and resentment aside.
Once everyone was suited up except for masks, cowl, or helmet they all sat in various seats at the batcomputer. Except for Dick and Damian who were warming up far above them flying in the air- Tim and Jason glanced up watching their brothers in a mixture of awe and fear. They could just barely hear the conversation being held between the eldest and youngest robin above them. Bruce was typing on the keyboard in front of him silently but his head was tilted in just the way that allowed him to also overhear the conversation.
“I don’t understand the part where you transition from the flip to the twist,” Damian huffed on the left side of the trapeze platform taking a sip from the water bottle Dick handed him.
“Easy- stretch, tuck, and roll. Like you would on the floor but imagine you’re a screw, twist your hips and point your toes. Arch your back when you hit the twist- it’s good training if you ever get stuck mid air and aren’t close enough to a ledge to reach it. You can use the flip to twist technique to propel yourself further if your line’s malfunctioning or you just don’t have a line.” Dick explained sitting down next to Damian and putting an arm at the young boy’s shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“And what if you’re still not close enough to the ledge?”
“Then you fall,” He shrugged.
“And then what do you do?”
“Just learn to fall baby bird,” He grinned at Damian who made a face.
“Fall, how?”
Dick sighed, “No one here has taught you to fall properly yet?”
“I mean father has, but I’ve never actively fallen from so far up like this. Because I’ve always had the grappling gun so…” Damian shrugged looking down at the ground far below.
“Well it’s easy,” Dick assured him.
“Easy? You’ve fallen from up high like this?”
“Yup,” He popped his “p”.
“To the actual ground?” Damian said in awe.
“Yup,” He repeated.
“Did it hurt?” Damian tilted his head.
“Of course but you learn to walk it off after you keep falling,” Dick gave him a thumbs up.
“How high? How many times?”
“Uh… I think the highest I’ve ever fallen was maybe ten stories? Thirteen stories? And the number of times- I can’t really tell you, too many to count.”
Bruce stiffened in his computer chair and Jason glanced over to Tim with wide eyes, “When the hell did he fall from that far up?”
Tim shook his head with a concerned expression, “I don’t know- I’ve never heard this story. Bruce?”
“Hn,” The man just hummed a negative and the three of them froze listening to the conversation the two birds were having from the perch far above.
“How’d you fall thirteen stories without…”
“My bones falling apart?” He laughed.
“Yeah, that.”
“Well I did break a few bones but- I didn’t crush my skull so I beat death that round,” Dick assured again with a tilt of amusement in his tone.
Bruce met eyes with Tim the young man look especially upset by the words spoken. Jason looked like he was trying to keep himself from speaking fists and jaw clenched. Watching the two have their merry conversation. Dick speaking as if falling to his death was no issue. Was a thing to be praised for because he had “beaten the odds.” It made Jason feel sick but he said nothing the turmoil in his head a mixture of rage from the pit and fear for Grayson’s life and flippant attitude towards falling.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you know what. I’ll show you-” Dick said leisurely and Tim let out a scream of horror that made Bruce swing around in his chair just in time to watch his son fling himself off the trapeze in the opposite direction of the net.
“Dick!” He shouted and Jason stood to his feet in shock.
All three watched in horror as Dick soared down towards the ground like an asteroid plummeting from space. When he landed his body smacked the mat blue mats beliw with a loud thud. And he absorbed the impact in a squat rolling back so his legs raised in the air in a fluid movement and his arms crossed over his chest in fists. At the end he added a flair of dramatics performing a backflip and raising his arms in the air to give Damian a thumbs up who just smiled brightly down at him in awe.
“That’s incredible Grayson, maybe I have underestimated your acrobatic skills that will definitely come in handy if I ever fall one day.”
Dick grinned, shouting up at the younger, “Told you!”
Bruce stood up, “It’s a good thing you won’t be falling like that anytime soon Damian. Now get down from there.”
“But father, what use is just watching the technique and not trying it myself? The assassins always told me it’s better to learn from experience,” Damian protested in annoyance, scrunching his face up into a scowl.
“This is not something you will ever be learning from experience, understood?” The man replied in a commanding voice.
“Bruce, if the kid doesn’t learn to fall now he’ll splat into the pavement one day,” Dick protested.
“ Not now Dick,” He placed a hand up to silence his oldest son.
The eldest son just shook his head with a condescending smile. “B you need to chill, I’ve been learning this stuff since I was a kid- and look at me I’m perfectly fine. You learn how to fly by falling-”
“I said not now . Damian get down from there,” Bruce snapped.
Damian huffed and began climbing down the ladder muttering under his breath. Dick just shrugged and Jason looked at his brother like he’d grown a second head, “Dude what the hell?”
“What? I was just training him, that’s my job.” He shrugged.
Tim frowned, “Training him or throwing him off a ledge?”
“I wasn’t going to throw him- he was going to throw himself. Big difference.” Dick corrected.
Bruce glared over at Dick grabbing his cowl from where it was sitting on a hanger, “Get ready. All of you.”
“Sheesh no need to be so sour,” Dick rolled his eyes and elbowed the youngest.
“What a killjoy, you would’ve been fine.”
“I know,” Damian grunted glaring at his father’s massive back from behind.
Bruce chose to ignore his sons’ comments as usual. Going about stocking on smoke bombs and other utility belt necessities for the day.
Jason grabbed his red helmet placing it over his face, “For once I agree with Bruce.”
“Geez, I guess it’s national hate on Nightwing day.”
“I for one am not ‘hating on’ you Dick I just think that you’re insane.” Tim gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Thanks Tim, that’s so sweet of you,” Dick said sarcastically.
Dick placed his domino mask over his eyes along with Tim before jumping on his motorcycle that was adjacent to Jason’s.
If everyone was going to be grouchy over a little training than Dick supposed he’d just have to teach Damian to fall some other time. It was important to know how to fall correctly Dick had seen Bruce take his fair share of falls, shattering bones, twisting ankles. If he had just listened to Dick there would be no need to cause himself so much trouble. But of course Dick was just second in charge, what he said didn’t really matter to the real bods. Batman was like a rigid commander with a fleet of soldiers and it was his way or the highway most of the time. It pissed Dick off especially today of all days.
Tim and Damian hopped in the batmobile and Dick revved his engine, testing the comms with a little: “Testing- testing this is Lieutenant Wing.”
“Yeah we can all hear you. You gotta do this every time you join in on patrol?” Tim said back over the comm voice dripping with annoyance.
“Yup, Oracle, how's my favorite ginger?”
“Good. And I hear you loud and clear,” Babs said back over the comms and Dick glanced over to Red Hood with a grin.
“Race you.”
“Yeah? How far? And on what terms?”
“First one to central Gotham gets a hundred fifty bucks,” Nightwing reached out hitting his shoulder playfully.
“I thought you were broke,” Jason spat back over the comms.
“I am that’s why I’m gonna leave you in the dust, I need money to pay for a parking ticket.”
“A parking ticket? What kinda cop gets a parking ticket?” Tim asked incredulously.
“The kind that leaves his motorcycle for a couple seconds in Bludhaven main square to grab an ice cream cone,” Dick sighed.
There were various snickers over the comms and a disapproving grunt from Bats. Dick took the chance to countdown quickly while Jason was distracted making jokes.
“Three, two, one- Go!” He zipped off and Jason could be heard snarling over the comms.
“Hey, what the fuck? No fair!”