Work Text:
Dick Grayson hadn’t existed for nearly four years.
Though he kept up his work as a vigilante as Renegade.
He was undercover, supposed to be until his infiltration in the White Collar office ended. Dick had never wanted anything more than to go back, to tackle his brothers, to kiss and tuck a screaming Damian into bed; somewhere where he had people he could depend on, a reason to be there, his own, free choice.
Not refined to a table as a criminal watched carefully by the FBI on a undercover mission.
Damian would be fourteen now.
Tim nearly twenty.
Jason would be somewhere in his mid-twenties.
Babs would be twenty-four, Cass twenty-three, and Steph nineteen.
How Dick regretted not being there for their birthdays.
But Dick was kicked out of the family; it had been too long.
He could remember most of his memories, but they were fogging up at the sides, curling into things that felt like dreams.
He had tried going back, but he delayed it day after day, until Spyral was over, then Bruce had told him to take part in this mission instead.
“Neal! Neal! Did you hear me? We’re going on a mission to investigate a weapon. It’s gonna be brutal. You coming?”
Who?
Ah, Dick. He was Neal now.
Peter sounded doubtful; and Dick had enough doubt in himself alone.
“Yeah.”
Dick instantly regretted it when he arrived. This was the work of Jason; bullets meant to stop heart rates but still allow the people to live; so that they would be transported into a morgue and wake up to be surrounded by damp, dead bodies.
An idea of a joke for Jason.
“Neal? You okay?”
“Yeah- I’ll go into the van.” Dick practically flipped over the caution tape, running into the van to run smack into Damian.
“Ah! You imbecile, how dare you- Grayson?” He was masked, and had barely aged, making Dick’s heart leap.
“What are you doing with Grayson’s face?”
“What are you doing here Damian?”
“Well I was collecting evidence on the corrupt agents in the FBI. Hm, another hallucination it must be.” He started to leave.
Dick had a choice.
He could follow Bruce’s rules set for him.
Or, he could reveal himself.
“Damian. I’m not a hallucination. It’s me. Dick. Or Richard or Grayson or whatever your calling me these days. I’m real.” Dick watched as Damian’s cold white lenses widened.
He expected anger, an outburst or a remark on how stupid he had been. Disbelief. Rage. He shut his eyes to brace for… Damian leaping towards him and tightly hugging him?
Dick hung onto the kid like a lifeline. He had missed this.
Openly showing his love and affection to someone.
Even better that it was Damian.
“I missed you so much Damian.”
“I missed you too, Richard.” Dick smiled fondly at the use of his first name.
“Nightwing and Robin?”
“Always and forever.”
Bonus:
Peter was getting worried. It had been nearly an hour since Neal had gone inside the van. Barging in, he found Neal huddled up beside a child who was commenting on his attire.
Though Peter had entered quite quietly and their backs were turned to him, they both turned at eerie similar intervals.
“Grayson?! Peter’s voice was reaching it’s highest pitch.
“Hey Peter! Just wanted to let you know your the most tolerable FBI man I’ve met, and a check of… how much?”
“If I was Burke, I would deem about eight million adequate.”
“We could go to that cute shelter you like. Is it still there?”
“No. It relocated when I was not available for charity.”
“Why weren’t you available? You love that place. It’s been four years. You can apply to work there now.”
“I am not fourteen. I am twelve. Tt, has work made your sense of time fruitless?”
“No its been nearly four years?” Neal scrunched up his face.
“Oh I was dead for the majority of two years, Grayson. Do keep up.” Neal suddenly turned to the kid in a motherly way, hands flickering onto every available glimpse of skin.
“Are you okay now?”
“Yes. Father brought me back to life with a chaos shard.”
“The heck is a chaos shard? Well, hows Babs? Tim? Cass? Jay? Steph? Your pets?”
“My pets lives are no business to you. They are all fine. Except Drake. Drake lost a spleen while fighting Grandfather.”
“Neal, I’m still here.” Neal waved a hand towards Peter.
“You know what? I say its a nice day for a little bit of running, a little bit pf saving lives?” Neal asks, his face in the biggest, most genuine smile Peter’s ever seen.
“Tt. Have you hacked in or do I need to flex my superiority yet again?”
“Day One, Kiddo.” Peter watched Neal step out of the van with the kid, walking towards wherever they were going. Peter searched up files on Neal Caffrey.
No files on Neal Caffrey.
He looked over to where Neal had sat down moments before.
A single metal anklet stood there, green light blinking in the otherwise dark van.
“Neal!”