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Peter raises his hand for a taxi as he rushes into the vehicle, teeth chattering. Bludhaven was freezing raining.
“Where to?”
“Bludhaven Central.” The car starts and Peter stares outside the window, feeling awfully chatty.
“What’s your name?” He asks the driver, finally.
“Ric,” The man curtly replies.
“I’m Peter. How was your day?”
“Oh, the usual. Being hassled with my ex-wife and a family I didn’t know existed.”
“Oh, she was pregnant and didn’t tell you?” Ric sounds familiar.
“No. I got amnesia. Turns out, I have a foster father and four siblings.”
“Tell me about them. Or what you remember, at least.” Ric barks out a laugh at that, and Peter watches his eyes shimmer with amusement.
“Alright. So the foster dad, super imposing. Always the ‘Ric, remember!’ shit. He’s caring to some extent, I guess.” Peter holds back his frown.
“The second guy’s much better. He doesn’t care. Says I’m better this way. Less annoying, he says. Amazing aim. The third guy has this aura of sadness around him. He’s good with tech, I guess, and great with cases. At least that’s what they tell me. No way he’s sixteen and a master detective. Kid looks like he’s missing days of sleep.”
“What about the two others?”
“Oh this last brother is young. Something about him… is hurting. I don’t know. He’s entitled and rude, but that’s just how kids are. I can’t stand him. The last one, only sister. Intense energy. Doesn’t talk much. Really, really fast and agile.” Ric finishes, and stops at a red light.
“They sound… interesting. Are you and your wife on good terms?”
“Nah. She keeps coming and crying to me, ‘Dick! Come back!’,” He mocks, with a high-pitched voice.
“Maybe she just wants the old you back.”
“Yeah, well I don’t miss him. Past me is the past. I’m Ric now,” He insists, but he sounds confused.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you this Peter, but you seem like a nice guy.” Ric looks back, and Peter’s heart jumps.
“Neal?”
“Who the crap is Neal?” Ric snaps impatiently.
“I-You! CI? Neal, what are you doing here?”
“I’m not Neal.”
“You are.”
“I’m Richard John Grayson, and I’m not Neal, or Dick, or anything else! I’m Ric.”
Peter falls silent.
“Now get the hell out of my car.”
Peter slides out the car into the rain, bumping into an olive skinned child walking around. He was drenched to the skin, but skillfully avoided tumbling into open traffic.
“Sorry.”
The kid doesn’t say anything, and Peter stays with him, staring at Ric’s taxi.
“Did you know him too?”
The kid finally looks at him, and Peter tells he’s feeling the loss of Ric like he is, but on a much deeper level.
Then the sadness turns to slight amusement.
“Too? Seems Richard cannot escape from his friends.”