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Dick Grayson ducked under the low ceiling of the abandoned car shop he was sneaking in. Not his preferred location for an underground gang meet-up but beggars couldn't be choosers. And right now he was desperate to find out what exactly was going on with this Deathstroke gang.
There was no reason for him to come all the way to Star City, not when Gotham and San Francisco was his home but -
He had almost let Jason die and the response from the Titans had not been surprising at all. Hank and Dove took turns berating him, Kori worried but scolded at the same time, Gar looked at him with concern and also hurt in his eyes and Rachel he couldn't decipher.
He just knew that they weren't happy and he understood , okay. He did .
But it was still all his responsibility and that meant going after this 'Deathstroke Gang' even after Deathstroke had disappeared.
He didn't tell anyone, of course. They'd be foolish enough to attempt to stop him, or worse, attempt to go with him.
No, this adventure to Star City was all Dick's own and he was not letting the Titans interfere.
Deathstroke and whatever this gang was were going to disappear, for good. Dick was the first robin, he was going to make it happen.
That was until he saw who it was standing in the center of that abandoned car shop.
Grant.
Grant?
If Dick knew him, it was from before . A young kid, sneaking with him through the secret hiding places in the circus, sharing kisses. A boy telling him that he didn't know his father and how lucky Dick was to have two parents that loved him.
A boy who showed up to very many circus performances, maybe just to see Dick but - he seemed to always be there.
And Dick - curious child as he was then, the reason he took up the mantle for Robin after all - asked him how come he could always be at the performances. Dick knew the performances couldn't be cheap - they only performed so many times after all - but most importantly they constantly moved and whenever Dick was busy helping set up the tent for a new location, there Grant was.
"My mom travels a lot for work," Grant said, "she feels bad that I don't have any friends so she brings me to the circus when she can."
"She doesn't stay though." And he kicked at the straw flattening the circus floor, Dick enveloping him in a back hug.
"I like that you always come." Dick murmured into Grant's back, just loud enough for Grant to hear him but neither of them acknowledged it at the time.
Looking at the clock Grant had sighing before jumping out of the hug to grasp at Dick's hand enthusiastically. "I have to go but my mom has the absolute fastest car, do you want to see? You have to!"
And, to Dick's amazement the car that came to pick Grant up was indeed the fastest he'd seen.
Until Batman, that was.
He sometimes wished the car never drove by at all.
If it hadn't, he would never have remembered the softness of his hands, the ear-to-ear grin he gave when the sun shone just right, the whispered promises of, "I'll be here the next day."
Except he was never here, and the next day never came. The next day, Dick's parents died in a circus fire and never came back. The next day, the cherry-blown kisses were so far from Dick's mind that he'd never thought to revisit the idea of that lonely little boy in the circus.
But Dick had his mask, and Grant did not.
Against all better judgment, he slid down from his hiding spot, stupidly shell-shocked for the boy crush that probably didn't even recognize him.
"The former Robin." Grant clipped. "What a pleasure."
Was that what he was now? Robin, the former. Batman's failed protege.
"Grant," He called, choking on the air that he breathed. This was stupid. Ridiculous. Weak.
He came here to take him down, not revisit some old flame that never turned back. This was an enemy.
Grant narrowed his eyes, holding Dick at swordpoint.
"Grant." He said again.
"Timebomb's ticking, Robin," Grant waved his big scary sword around - a katana his mind supplied - threatening to stab him and Dick almost let him, never mind what he came here for.
Grant was the past, and the past was peanuts and cotton candy and clowns before it became poverty and hunger and Batman. Batman, his savior, his father, his punisher. Grant meant the world, before, even just for those few weeks. Before, when everything was fine, before it became… this.
And now Grant was the Deathstroke gang, only step removed from a man who haunts Dick in his nightmares and on the streets.
"Grant, why ?" It comes out choked and the composure that Batman had taught him flies at the window at the memory of his childhood. He'd become so cold and so good at hiding his emotions and simply being in front of an old flame had this effect on him?
"Are you crying?" Grant sounded incredulous, and the attack in his stance wavered a little. If Dick was smart enough, he'd use this as an opening to strike him from the side, reach for the bomb before it finished ticking.
That's what Batman would have said to do. Bruce knew best.
Which was why, Dick resolutely sniffled and spat out an irritated, "No."
"...Are you sure?" Grant looked ridiculously at a loss. If Dick knew all it took to shut down the Deathstroke gang's operations was to bawl his eyes out, he'd have done it ages ago.
He wouldn't have, but it was the principle of the thing. Seeing Grant again would have probably made him cry regardless.
"Fuck, Grant," He pressed the heels of his hands over his mask, where his eyes were. "You're setting off a bomb. You're killing people. You're leading the Deathstrokes."
Grant stiffened. "So?" Then he frowned. "Do I know you?"
Dick's mind whirled so fast from sadness to the surrealness from the situation he almost laughed. Here he was laying his heart open in front of his ex-love when he didn't even know who Dick was.
Maybe he wouldn't even remember, but Dick couldn't go in like this.
And then recklessly, nonsensically, Dick ripped the mask off his face. Maybe he was just tired of going at it alone, holding it together for the team? being at odds with Bruce and estranged from Alfred. Maybe he just wanted it all to end and Grant was the only thing between him and that end.
Maybe he wasn’t meant to be the hero after all. Maybe he was over being Robin as well.
"Dick Grayson, at your service." He bowed with a flourish he did not feel, if the croak in his voice wasn’t evident enough. "Or, well, not service. At the very opposite of your service, actually. I'm supposed to stop you from destroying all of Star City."
"Dick." Grant said, and Dick wasn't sure if that meant he recognized him or if he was just calling him an expletive. And then with less air, he breathed, " Dick ."
Dick scratched the back of his neck a little too forcefully. "Yeah."
The katana dropped with a clang and the ticking of the timebomb seemed to pause, if only for a second.
When Grant was done death-proofing the havoc he had wrought, he whirled around on Dick, nose flaring. "What the fuck, Grayson? Didn't you get adopted? It was all over the papers, I swore it was. Why are you Robin?"
Dick shrugged. "Why are you the leader of Deathstroke's gang?"
"Because rich men like Bruce Wayne need to pay. The rich need to pay for taking over the city and making it the way it is," He answered resolutely, and then quieter, "Because I never had a father."
"Well, I lost both my parents in a circus fire, so welcome to the club," Dick replied, and he tried not to sound too bitter about it. "Also, Bruce and I aren't on the best terms right now. As in we're not speaking. So."
Grant raised an eyebrow. "Because you're risking your life parading in skinny tights and a cape? Any father would be pissed with that."
Dick laughed, and it sounded hollow even to his own ears. "Because you would know? God, Grant. I fucking hate you."
Grant's tone softened. "So did I." And then he walked forth to drag Dick into his arms, burying his face into Dick's neck. "But I missed you too much to be mad right now."
"Same." Dick answered, and it is all the answer both of them need to crumple to the floor of this abandoned car shop.
And yes, there was going to be hell to pay for this later, fraternizing with a known gang leader, but right now all Dick Grayson could think about was that he had Grant back. He'd lost the circus, his parents, Bruce but at least - at least he had Grant.
Grant planted a kiss to the side of his cheek while Dick reached for his hand, like old times.