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And brother if you have the chance to pick me up?
And can I sleep on your couch
To the pound of the ache and pain?
Growing up with Bruce Wayne can be difficult.
You have to get used to the lingering silences and unblinking scowls, and, to be honest, it gets worse before it gets better as everything in Gotham City does. Even four kids later, Bruce still flounders with his lack of emotional touch. The older he gets, Dick thinks, the more B struggles coming to terms with the fact that someday the cowl and cape will have to go and that only Bruce Wayne will remain.
But now Dick is in 'Haven, miles away from the Manor he grew up in; away from constant nightmares, harsh discussions, and ugly alleys. Bludhaven doesn't honor its name, but it's enough to make him feel at home. Changing nests was something he did daily as a kid anyway.
New apartment, new space, new opportunities.
It's all his.
Dick doesn't have to worry anymore about Bruce. He doesn't have to make sure his adoptive father is happy; he doesn't have to explain how things should be or should be done to an adult. The freedom of it almost makes him dizzy.
He's gone to enough therapy sessions to admit it wasn't Bruce's fault entirely. Father-Son's problems were a two-way road, and theirs, although weird in nature, were no exception. The fact both of them were vigilantes just added to the steaming pot in danger of exploding.
Dick still loves him, no matter the mistakes Bruce has made. It became part of him to accept the way things were, both sides, good and bad. No one was perfect, not even him who constantly tried too hard. Like when he dropped out of college, it had been scary; he'd felt like an imposter for so long that it became depressing to admit it to others.
But now Dick was doing okay. He was getting a grasp of stability, not fooling himself by thinking every day would be a happy one.
Life sucked, maybe not always, but it did. Dick knew it was going to be a hard journey, especially for him and his family, but it didn't mean he didn't cherish it. Life sucked in its beautiful, strange way, and it was just something human to come to terms with it.
It took him years to understand that.
Good thing he was here now, in this state of mind with these new dawns. It makes him feel grounded, somehow.
Leaving aside his daddy issues, being an older brother has done a lot for his mental health. He always knew he was a provider, someone who enjoyed taking care of others, someone who basked in the light of leadership. It was also part of the reason why Dick often somersaulted cautiously in those areas. The space between protecting and controlling was dangerously close for him. He was afraid of becoming someone like Bruce, the type of man who would get sick if he didn't know everything about everything.
That’s why he proposed to himself to be better, especially with his siblings. To have boundaries with them, to enjoy the time together and not go full anger every time they made something he considered wrong. Dick himself knew he'd made mistakes… so many times, still does to this day, but he also consciously admitted to them and tried to change.
Yet, with the distance, his job, and their chaotic form of living, there's not much he can do. Dick tries to visit whenever he can, whenever he knows his mental health can survive it, whenever he's sure Bruce won't act too strangely or too awkward.
He makes sure to check up on Tim, going to his nest a couple of times a month. He calls Jason or even visits him every few weeks. He messages Cass and asks how she's doing and ends up chatting for hours with her. He, as he'd said, visits the Manor sometimes and spends quality time with Damian.
Dick thinks, reassesses, tries, and does, every time, every day he's dealing with his siblings, and it feels good, it makes him feel invincible to be able to help the most important people in his life. Sometimes it gets tiring, and sometimes he can't even help himself, but it's worth it. It's fulfilling.
It's fulfilling because he decides when, where, and who…
However, there are days, like today, when Dick doesn't get the chance to decide.
"You haven't been answering my calls."
Since morning Dick has wanted nothing more than to spend time alone and eat unhealthy amounts of pesto pasta. He turns around, letting the spoon fall over the food, and sees Damian standing in front of the living room window with his arms crossed.
He's surprised. "What are you doing here?"
Damian simply quirks an eyebrow at him.
He sighs and takes his phone, realizing that he has 57 missed calls from Damian, 4 from Tim, and 21 from Bruce.
He quickly sends Bruce a message (“Dam’s with me. I reckon he’ll sleep over.”) and immediately receives a reply (“Take care. We’ll talk in the morning.”). He sighs, looks up at the ceiling for a second, and leaves the phone aside.
“I made pesto, wanna try it?”
Dick knows that the best way to make Damian acclimatize is through offerings. The kid was used to having everything in his grasp, it makes sense that some formalities would do it for him to relax.
As expected, his littlest brother nods, still frowning and looking menacing, even with civvies, and approaches him with detachment.
“Timothy has told me you’re a good cook, unlike him,” Damian states, “Making adequate food’s just another inability of his.”
Dick lets the comment go, serving two plates of food and taking a seat at his little wooden table. Kory hated it since the day he’d bought it and it still has some drawings Raven had scratched over it.
Damian doesn’t take a seat, deciding to eat by the kitchen island.
“How’s school?” Dick asks.
“As always.”
“Your friends?”
“What friends?”
“Teachers?”
Damian grumbles, “Meaningless.”
He resists the urge to smile at Dam’s antics.
“Home?”
His brother frowns and eats a spoon full of pasta.
Dick continues talking, “Me, I’ve been doing alright.” Half lie. “Classes are good. Matias, the kid I talked to you about, is going to Nationals. His parents gifted me that mug over there.”
Damian turns and searches for the mug. "It is ugly,” he says, looking at it.
Dick shrugs, “It’s cute. Parents love me,” he beams.
The mug has a big, pixeled picture of Dick reading at the gym, probably a snapshot Matias’ parents took of him while on a class break, and with Papyrus font it says: Adobe Acrobat Reader, with the logo of the brand.
“Anyway,” he yawns. God. He’s so tired. “Matias’ going to Nationals and Leslie is prepping for a gov campaign of sports.”
“You’ve been busy,” the gremlin’s playing with his food now.
“Yeah. I’ve been busy.”
They stay in silence for about five minutes and Dick tries not to panic. Having serious conversations with Dam is always rocky. His little brother is ambivalent and rude at best, aggressive at worst. And he knows this is a serious conversation, otherwise, the kid would be on the sofa by now, playing Minecraft on his phone or talking about silly videos he’d found.
Maybe Dam needs more time to sort his thoughts out.
“Crime’s been meh,” Dick chirps, “A few casinos have been burnt, no casualties, fortunately. I spook Selina out of here again and I have new neighbors next door.” Yes, his life is boring. Sue him. “I tried to finish the Andy Warhol puzzle Helena gave me for my birthday but I think I lost a piece somewhere.”
“How? Your apartment is spotless.”
Okay. Good. Damian’s back to a talkative mood.
“I dunno,” and Dick has finished his second bowl of pasta. “‘T was probably Wally. I swear to God, Dami, don’t have speedsters as best friends. They’re a fucking mess.”
A tiny, tiny smile shows up on his little brother’s face and Dick counts it as a win.
He’s eaten two bowls of pasta. He’s been patient, for a Bat. It’s time to talk.
“You argued with Bruce?”
The key to making his way over Damian’s heart was never pity or rudeness. It was neutrality, even softness. Patiently waiting for him to open up, giving him space, and then actually confronting him, those were steps Dick knew by heart. His siblings were unique, and all of them varied and were vastly different when dealing with serious topics, but in his opinion, Damian has the easiest protocol for them.
For example, talking serious business with Tim was always a pain in the ass. That kid was the king of evasion and dry humor.
Damian takes a few seconds to reply, “I did.”
“You want to talk about it?”
It’s been maybe two years since Damian arrived in their lives and the kid still struggles with kindness.
“Yes.”
Once again, silence. Dick stands up, blasé and totally not panicking, and stands by Damian’s back, opening up the tap and beginning to wash his plate.
“He won’t let me quit school.”
Of all the topics in the world… Dick definitely isn’t the appropriate person to talk to about this.
“He says I need to finish high school at least,” Damian continues, voice cold and angry, “How is that practical? I’m a crime fighter. I don’t like school. I don’t even need it.”
Dick closes the tap and turns to face the kid, drying his hands with a flowered towel. “Dami.”
“I told him it was ridiculous; I know everything already,” Damian’s absolutely angry. “I have been trained to be the best by the best. My Mother had taught me, Pennyworth had taught me, you’d taught me, he’d taught me. It’s pointless to search for more.”
Aw, that’s flattering.
Focus, Grayson.
“I know, Dam. You’re a smart kid—”
“Exactly. Why won’t my own Father accept it? I’m smarter than his Board of Directors.”
Dick huffs out a laugh, “Okay, point. But, buddy, Bruce’s right. You have to finish high school at least.”
Damian’s gaze hardens, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he quirks both eyebrows.
His little brother keeps looking at him, and then, “You’re serious.”
“Of course I am. I’d be very offended if you thought otherwise.”
“You cannot—” Damian stops himself, “Did Drake call you?”
What?
“No. Why?”
Damian squints, “Why do you think?”
Dick laughs with his full belly this time, “You think Timmy snitched on you? That I’m plotting with him to make your life miserable?”
“It could be,” Dami raises his chin, “I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Gosh,” he yawns again. Shit. “Listen, baby bird, you’re clearly too… emotionally compromised to think objectively and I’m obviously too tired to function right now. Why don’t we watch a movie or something?”
Damian rolls his eyes, “Fine, but only if you let me choose it.”
“Fair.”
They end up watching half of Freaky Friday before Damian’s snoring by his side. Nearly with his eyes closed, Dick stands up and goes to search for a blanket. He has a tiny closet full of them as he’d found them necessary for whenever his siblings come by infected by fear gas, with an existential crisis, or both. Last time it was Cass’ turn to receive fluffy comfort and two cups of tea before she could breathe again.
Those were the kind of things Dick didn’t enjoy as an older brother, but if he didn’t help them, who will?
He comes back with a fluffy brown blanket and places it over Damian, who has moved and is now occupying nearly all of his couch. Dick doesn’t know if his furniture is too small or if Damian’s growing up too fast. He snatches the thought away before tears can gather in his eyes and sits down on the floor.
The movie’s paused in a frame of Jamie Lee Curtis pointing with her finger at someone.
Dick Grayson
Are you in the Manor?
Timmy
hi tim how are you hows school?
Dick Grayson
You don’t even study.
Timmy
🙄 yup im home. i’m not too of an asshole to let b wallow in his misery
Timmy
i mean i am an asshole and i do find funny the way he goes all emo but
Dick Grayson
Let him know Damian’s okay. Remind him he’s just a kid. Probably tired of having too many chores
Timmy
pls tell me you didn’t suggest to him to drop out
Dick Grayson
😑
Timmy
because that’s my job. im the high school dropout. im the cool one. not you. everyone drops out of college. not me. im unique
Dick Grayson
He actually told me you probably wanted him to stay SS
Timmy
ss?
Dick Grayson
Studying and Suffering
Timmy
ha 😆
Timmy
well now that you put it like that… school is so important. like, actually.
Dick Grayson
Timmy. Learn to talk.
Timmy
whatevs. ill tell b. peace out
Timmy
ps don’t tell jason about this. he’ll go insane and then he’ll shout a speech about the importance of education and then he’ll proceed to project his problems on damian….. just like a father
Dick Grayson
Stfu
Dick Grayson
💙
He doesn’t know how or when but when he blinks again it’s morning. His phone is still in his hand, but his body is contorted in some horrifying way and his neck is aching because he’s getting old and Damian’s nowhere to be seen until his ears catch his singing voice coming from the bathroom.
Dick decides to make breakfast while his brother finishes getting ready. He unlocks his phone once he’s in the kitchen, just to find out it’s nearly dead because he left the Candy Crush app open all night. Dick frowns, remembers last night's problem, and goes to his messages.
Jay
Tell Damian to answer his goddamn phone
Jay
!!!!
It’s too early to deal with a goody Jason. He replies with a thumbs-up emoji.
By the time he’s finished with the hash browns and eggs, Damian arrives with a sweater thrice his size and his jeans from last night. Dick places a plate for him, this time on the wooden table, and his little brother mumbles something but sits down.
“Thank you, brother.”
He nods, “I’ll be right back.”
Dick does his necessities and brushes his teeth, thinking about schools, and decisions, and father’s with no emotional touch. He also recalls the feeling of loss, uncertainty, and lack of belonging.
It’s clear Dami hasn’t found the right people at school. He also hasn’t found an endearing professor, someone academic to look up to. Life at the Manor isn’t probably helping matters, and Alfred can’t do everything; that Dick had learned later in life.
Damian’s, what, twelve? He’s a little boy, and he’s juggling his late nights as a crime-fighter and early mornings as a normal kid. Dick knows how it feels; hell, he’s gone through it without no one to let him know it wasn’t going to be easy. He had been too bull-headed, just like Dami.
And Bruce… It all comes back to Bruce.
When he returns to the kitchen Damian’s nearly finished. Dick takes a seat in front of him, and eats a bite of hash brown, before standing up again and serving himself a plate of Fruit Loops.
“You want some?”
Damian shrugs his head, shyer than yesterday. Cooling off was a good idea then.
Dick switches between eating the eggs and hash browns and the bowl of cereal. Damian doesn’t talk.
He sighs, “What are you thinking?”
“You’re taking our Father’s side,” and Dam’s left eye twitches.
Dick takes a moment to bask in the shock of finding out that Damian is clearly Bruce’s mini-me, and before he can wonder if he’s gained traits from his adoptive father too, he says:
“There are no sides to take, Dami. It's probably difficult to accept that I’m genuinely saying this, but Bruce wants what’s best for you.” Damian doesn’t groan but looks like he wants to. “When I dropped out of college I felt lost. I didn’t know who I was, and I thought everyone had their life sorted out except me.”
“I’m not dropping out of college,” Damian says irritated, “It’s middle school.”
Dick points at him with his spoon, “Exactly. Middle school. What are you thinking? Even with that surname, you need an education.”
“Hypocrite.”
“I’m not,” he says firmly, “I’m not being a hypocrite. I’m being your big brother.”
Dami doesn’t reply but his features soften a bit.
“And as your big brother I need to make sure you don’t make stupid decisions,” Dick continues, pausing to eat a handful of Fruity Loopsies. “I’m used to taking a distance from judging you and your actions because I respect you and I know how intelligent you are.” Damian looks down at his empty plate. “But this isn’t wise.”
“You sound like Pennyworth.”
“I doubt it but I’ll take the compliment,” Dick smiles sadly. “You can try it out, you know?”
“Huh?”
“Dropping out. You can try it out for a few days, weeks, see how it feels,” he shrugs. “You’re gonna get bored at home, I’m telling you that.”
Damian is considering it. “I can try?”
“Sure, why not?” Dick winces, “I don’t wanna sound condescending but I know you’re not gonna like it.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” His little brother crosses his arms. “To drop it’s all I want.”
“Because wanting, needing and feeling are three different things,” he replies. “We’re different persons, I don’t get your way of life but I try, and it’s the same for you, but when I was Robin school used to be my place, you know?”
Damian tilts his head.
“I felt normal there,” Dick licks his lips, “I belonged in the real, bittersweet world. I made friends there and I used to hate most of my teachers, but none of that really mattered at the end of the day. What mattered is how I felt.”
“I still think the same,” Dami mumbles.
“Then I’ll help you talk with Bruce,” he replies easily, “I’ll tell him you want to spend most of your days at the Manor, waiting for the clock to turn, doing chores, and interacting only with Alfred, because, let’s be honest, Bruce will be busy all day with Wayne matters.”
At that, Damian’s face changes.
“Father will be busy.”
It’s not a question but it sounds like one.
Dick nods, “Meetings on mornings, golf appointments with senators at midday, and the rest of the afternoon Batman duty at the Watchtower or visits to the charities he’s in charge of.”
Damian doesn’t say anything. He looks a bit sad.
“I don’t want to make you feel miserable, Dami. I’m just telling you that we can help, in whatever way you want, to make you feel comfortable. It’s what B’s frankly doing, in his own, weird way. He cares a lot about you. You’re his son. And I’m telling you this, so you know I’m being fair and honest.”
His little brother nods, suddenly defeated.
“Can we finish Freaky Friday before I head home?”
Dick stretches out his arm and grips Damian’s shoulder, offering him another smile, “Sure, baby bird.”
Unfortunately, they get interrupted just 20 minutes before the movie ends. Someone’s knocking like crazy on his door and Dick knows who it is.
He groans, “Dami, why wouldn’t you answer Jay’s calls?”
Damian is with his forever scowl planted on his face, “I blocked his number by the ninth call.”
The banging on the door continues, and when Dick stands up to approach it, the blind from the window suddenly opens up.
“Hey, look what I found on the fire escape.”
It’s Tim.
With the missing piece from his Andy Warhol puzzle on hand.
“What are you doing here?!” Dick hadn’t realized that Damian ran towards the window, ready to fight Tim as if he was the Joker.
“Hang out.”
Damian and he nearly have a cardiac arrest at the demonic shadow by the curtains, then they realize it’s just Cass.
“Let me in!” Jason’s shouting from the other side of the door. “I have a list of 10 reasons why Damian shouldn’t drop out that I made instead of sleeping! You better let me in!”
“He isn’t dropping out,” Dick hisses while he opens the door.
Jason trots straight to Damian.
“Listen, little man—”
“I’m not dropping out,” his little brother exclaims. “That would be unwise.”
Dick looks at him with a gentle smile.
Cass advances a few steps until she’s by Damian’s arm, “Little brother,” and hugs him.
Dick frowns, “I thought hugs were a no-no for you.”
“Cass is everyone’s exception,” Tim replies beside him.
Damian turns red at the affection.
“So I came all the way here for nothin’?” Jay rolls his eyes, “Damn. This is your fault, Timmers.”
“Shut up. I didn’t even invite you.”
“Cass did.”
Tim turns to Cass, “Traitor.”
Okay. Okay. Dick needs to take control of the situation.
“Guys, there’s Froot Loops on the kitchen island.”
Jason, Tim, and Cass look at each other for a second before they scramble to the kitchen, which it’s not even two meters away from them.
“Just, please, don’t spill milk anywhere!”
The three of them begin to argue about who deserves to serve their first plate of cereal, and he's sure Cass’ way to argue with fists is going to win.
He turns at Damian, who still has a frown but it’s now looking fondly at them.
“It would be unwise of us to wait for them,” Dick says happily.
Damian rolls his eyes, and then looks down at the floor, “I believe that’s yours.”
Dick looks down too, just to see the missing piece of the puzzle laying there, abandoned.
“Remind me to never leave my things in charge of Tim.”
Thirty minutes later, they're all squished on his worn-out couch while Cass, ever the rational one, is laying down on the floor, happily eating Fruit Loops on the biggest bowl he owns.
Unfortunately for Jason, who hates being on pics with a passion, Dick decides to take a selfie. Tim obviously does the peace sign.
He sents it to their father.
Dick Grayson
[Attached image.]
Dick Grayson
Damian's not leaving school.
Bruce Wayne
Thank you.
Bruce Wayne
Are you free Sunday? Alfred's making scones.
Bruce Wayne
It's okay if you're not.
Dick Grayson
Scones?
Dick Grayson
See ya Sunday.
Bruce Wayne
👍
Growing up with Bruce Wayne can be difficult, but having the ability to hack into his servers and set his Adobe Acrobat Reader photo as wallpaper for all of his devices is something that only a few people have the luck to do.
A "few people" being: the rest of his siblings.
Dick wouldn’t change the current status quo, though. At the end of the day, being a safety net for his little birds is part of what keeps him sane.