Chapter Text
“Jay, be careful not to break the sign!!”
“Then why don’t you carry it yourself, Timbers?”
“DIDI!!!”
Bruce Wayne momentarily closes his eyes and lets out a deep, exhausted sigh. He really should have known better than to assume that travelling to the Olympics with his three sons, let alone manoeuvring them into the Olympic Ice Arena, would be an easy job. Even with the valiant and indispensable assistance of Alfred and Talia by his side, the task is demanding every ounce of patience that the tall man has stored in his body. Running a billion-dollar empire is nothing compared to keeping three boys between ages one and 14 in line.
Luckily for Bruce, though, the ever-composed British accent of Alfred Pennyworth sounds in his ears that very moment.
“Here we are, these are our seats. Gentlemen, why don’t you sit?”
Bruce has long been convinced that Alfred must possess some kind of superpower, and this is yet another proof of it. Because how else could he possible manage to bring two bickering brothers to sit down without any protest whatsoever? It’s definitely an accomplishment that Bruce himself has yet to achieve.
The butler takes the furthest seat at the end of the front line of block G7, followed by Tim and Jason, then Bruce, and finally Talia with Damian in her lap. The view onto the ice rink below is spectacular, just a few meters away from the panel of judges. This close to the ice, Dick might actually be able to catch of glimpse of them during the warm-up. A glimpse that will hopefully give him the confidence he needs to nail the short programme.
It’s the very least that my boy deserves, Bruce thinks, a strange blend of nerves and fondness rising in his chest.
The arena is already packed to the rafters. The ice is currently being resurfaced for the final two group of skaters. Normally, when Bruce attends one of Dick’s competitions, he tries to watch all the skaters from beginning to end, even the also-rans early on who everybody knows will have no shot at a medal. But to Bruce, it’s a sign of respect to the athletes, who all deserve the support of the audience equally. Any competition can be just as meaningful to a newbie competitor as to an experienced veteran, perhaps even more so. And an also-ran today could be a superstar in just a few years.
This time, however, that was simply not feasible. Sitting through two groups of skaters with a toddler to take care of is already a Herculean feat. Five groups would be downright impossible.
Bruce just hopes that the Olympic gods will forgive him and not take it out on his son…
“How do you think he is doing?”, Talia’s gentle voice next to him catches his attention.
“Dunno”, Bruce answers truthfully, looking at the serene smile of his wife. “This morning he seemed fine. Victor and Selina told me so too. His last run-through was clean. It’s just …”
Bruce’s voice drifts off, lost in thought.
“Just what?”, Talia inquires.
“I want to protect him, Talia”, Bruce responds, his voice suddenly raspy and a heavy lump gathering in his throat. “Dick’s gone through so much in his life and this here means the world to him. I just want things to go well for him and for him to be happy at the end of the day, but I feel so helpless and useless, just sitting here and watching. Like a civilian watching a superhero fight the bad guy. There’s nothing I can do to help him and that sucks.”
Bruce has been feeling pretty gloomy all day, but it’s only now, saying these words out loud to Talia, that he understands the reason. Dick is about to face the greatest challenge of life, and he has to do it by himself. There’s nothing that Bruce can do to help him, and that fact is killing him.
Sure, he has plenty of experience, accompanying Dick to competitions or watching on TV as his son does what he does best.
But this is different. Not only is Dick’s Olympic fate about to be decided over the next couple of days. It’s also an undeniable sign of Dick growing up. His 18th birthday is merely a month away, and it’s only now that this realization fully hits Bruce.
His Chum, the first boy he ever took in and gave a home to, is turning into a grown man in front of his very eyes. And it makes Bruce both happy and sad, all at once.
“You’re not doing nothing”, Talia reassures him, squeezing his right hand with her left one. “You’re being here, cheering him on and sending positive energy into the arena. Dick will feel that. And I have no doubt that it will make Robin soar even higher than before.”
“I hope you’re right”, Bruce replies, though neither his attempt at a smile nor the tone in his voice seem all that convincing.
Talia’s smile grows a little cheekier then as her eyes dart to the black-haired bundle of energy in her lap.
“Don’t listen to me. Listen to him. Right, my darling?”, she nudges her son, earning a prompt reaction,
“DIDI!!”, Damian exclaims excitedly, his tiny hands reaching up in the air.
Bruce cannot help but laugh at the sight.
“Well, it’s settled then”, he decides. “Didi for the win.”
Suddenly, the voice of the arena announcer wakes up the crowd.
“Let’s welcome our next group of skaters to the ice!”
Bruce didn’t even notice the ice surfacing machines leaving the rink, but as he looks down, the pristine white field is perfectly empty. Then, six young men at the far end of the boards skate onto the ice, earning loud cheers from the excited audience.
As the skaters line up on the ice to be announced to the spectators watching in the arena and around the world, the first athlete in line, a strikingly handsome guy with blond hair, dressed in black suit paints and a tight-fitting white dress shirt, immediately grabs Bruce’s attention.
“From the Russian Federation, Valentin Streltsov!”
“Why is he on this early?”, Bruce blurts out loud, a confused frown on his face.
“World ranking”, Jason answers instantly, like it’s the most obvious ‘well duh’ thing in the world.
“What?”, comes Bruce’s very eloquent reply, looking at his second-oldest son next to him for answers.
Jason rolls his eyes in annoyance like he’s Hermione Granger urging Harry and Ron to read, before he finally deigns to treat his dad with an answer,
“Basically, in figure skating you earn world ranking points for every international competition you enter, not just for the actual results. So the more you compete, the higher you will be in the ranking, and the ranking then determines the draw for the Olympics. Streltsov only did one international event all season, and even though he won that one, that’s not enough to be drawn into the final group at the Olympics. Him even going first in his group is just added bonus.”
“Hmm”, Bruce hums thoughtfully, memories of Dick’s very first junior competitions flooding back into his head.
One of the first things that Selina and Victor Fries taught him during those events was that having to perform early in a figure skating competition is never a good thing. Apparently, judges tend to hold back their top scores until the final group of skaters, regardless of the actual quality on the ice. This makes it so difficult for newcomers who are forced to perform early to actually break through. You have to perform early because you haven’t built up your reputation and your ranking points yet – but how can you build up your reputation if the judges won’t score you fairly, just because you’re not running in the later groups?
It means that you need to be an exceptional talent like Dick in order to break through that vicious paradoxical cycle.
It also means that if for whatever reason you get an early position in the starting order, that position – and the programme component scores that it might cost you – might just make or break your hopes for Olympic gold.
Bruce isn’t delusional enough not to know that this will change in the free skate tomorrow. Streltsov will definitely be in the final group for the deciding part of the event tomorrow, despite his spot in the running order today. Plus, if the team event was any indication, the general favouritism towards Russia – despite a more neutral panel today, at least in terms of nations – will likely make up for any points lost due to the running order…
And yet…, Bruce muses quietly, I will grasp at any little straw I might find if it means that Dick, who’s the penultimate skater in the final group, can win gold and send this homophobic bigot back where he belongs…
Once all the skaters have been introduced, the six-minute warm-up begins and the announcer starts reading out the resumé of each competitor currently on the ice in the order of their performances. This means that Valentin Streltsov’s credits are announced first.
“He is a former World and Grand Prix Final champion and a two-time European Champion. After an absence from the sport for over two years due to injuries, he returned to competitive ice in December to win his third National title, and in last week’s Olympic team event, he already set new World records in both the short and the free programme to win gold. Representing the Russian Federation, VALENTIN STRELTSOV!”
Bruce stomach turns as he listens to Streltsov’s credit and watches him practice one effortless quadruple jump after another. You don’t need to be an expert to acknowledge that Streltsov is light-years ahead of any other skater currently on the ice, not just in technical aspects like speed or height, but in general showmanship. Valentin Streltsov skates with an attitude like he owns the place, and considering that he just set new World records only a few days ago, he admittedly does.
Feeling his pulse quicken as he watches Streltsov warm up, Bruce takes several deep breaths to calm himself down. He hates to be the kind of father who wishes bad luck on his son’s competitors, but right now he cannot help but hope for Streltsov to fall during his short programme. Because the way he’s skating right now, that might actually be the only way for somebody to beat him, even for Dick.
In no time, the warm-up is over, and all skaters except Streltsov leave the ice. The Russian then skates to the middle of the rink while the announcer calls out his name to much applause and he assumes his opening pose. A few seconds later, the triumphant opening notes of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 echo through the arena, and he’s off.
In spite of his paternal biases, Bruce cannot deny that Streltsov is incredible. Not only does he deliver a perfect technical performance, nailing every jump flawlessly, but he also embodies the sweeping elegance of the music with surprising and utterly convincing ease, considering his reputation as a rugged bad boy.
F*ck it, Bruce curses silently as Streltsov finishes his final jumping sequence, he’s knocking it out of the park, just like he did in the team event…
…When he beat Wally…
Bruce clenches his teeth and balls his fists at the memory.
Wally was objectively the better skater that day – Bruce has no doubt about it – and yet the judges still put Streltsov ahead of him. If they do the same thing to Dick, who’s never gone head-to-head with Streltsov before, the IOC will need a whole army of superheroes to stop Bruce from burning Montreal to the ground.
When the final chords of Piano Concerto No. 1 arise, so does the audience, standing to their feet to give Streltsov the ovation that even Bruce must begrudgingly admit he deserves. The billionaire, who’s standing too, would not be surprised if somebody in the crowd has spotted him and has their camera pointed on him, and he’d hate for any sour loser-dad Bruce Wayne photos to go viral and reflect back on Dick’s reputation.
Tim and Jason, however, remain seated and scowling, their arms pointedly crossed over their chest. Meanwhile, Alfred has stood up, but he is clapping his hands with a lack of enthusiasm that would give Albus Dumbledore’s infamous clapping in the first Harry Potter film a run for his money. Even Talia, who’s typically the most diplomatic and open-minded one of them all, is bearing the fakest smile Bruce has seen on her face in a long time, and he cannot help but grin at it.
No amount of political correctness can squash family allegiance in the Wayne household, Bruce muses in silent pride.
An expectant hush falls over the arena when Streltsov reaches the Kiss & Cry and sits down with his coach and an official from the Russian delegation on either side of him to receive his points. Judging by the smug smirk on his face, Streltsov seems utterly convinced that another new World record score is imminent.
Then the voice of the announcer comes through the sound system in the arena, and Bruce’s stomach plummets at her words.
“Valentin Streltsov from Russia has earned in the short programme 114.12 points. He is currently in first place.”
The audience applauds appreciatively, but Streltsov’s enlarged face on the jumbotron instantly turns from a smug grin into a confused and then angry scowl.
“What’s wrong with him?”, Bruce asks in Jason’s direction, whose eyes have just lit up with devious glee. “That’s a huge score, isn’t”
“But not as huge as his World record from the team event”, Jason retorts with the grin worthy of a super villain. “0.3 points smaller, to be exact. That bastard probably thought that the judges would inflate his score even more than they already did last week, but the judges apparently said ‘Not today’.”
Bruce is still unconvinced, and goes on, “But then this is still the second-highest score ever awarded in a men’s short programme, right? Higher than anything Dick or Wally ever received?”
Jason’s villainous smirk remains unwavering. “Yeah, but that’s not the point here. The point is that things did not go according to plan for Streltsov. The plan was for him to skate just as well as he did in the team event, which he admittedly did, but then to receive an even bigger score for that than last week, when he was already overscored. Well, he did skate clean, but the judges did not push him to a new World record as he clearly thought that they would. And that in itself must be encouraging to Dick and Wally.”
Bruce smiles a little at Jason’s mention of Wally’s name. In just two weeks, his second-eldest son has come a long way from fearing that Wally would take Dick away from him, to viciously attacking anyone who as much as utters the faintest critique of his big brother’s secret boyfriend. And remembering the impact that running order often has on figure skating judges, Bruce starts to think that Jason might be on to something.
The judges could have easily given Streltsov a new World record if they wanted to, he surmises, but they chose not to. And deliberately at that, looking at how close the score is. So maybe they really are holding back their top marks for the final group…
The final group that includes Dick and Wally…
Maybe Streltsov’s not invincible after all…
Even though Streltsov’s score fell short of his very own World record, it’s still more than enough to decimate the other skaters in the penultimate group. None of them come anywhere close to what the Russian Bad Boy just delivered, neither Victor Stone, the other US man beside Dick and Wally, who has the unfortunate job of having to go right after Streltsov, nor hometown favourite Jean-Paul Valley, who skates last but falls on his opening quad jump much to the audience’s disappointment.
By the time the penultimate group is done, Streltsov is still in the lead by almost 20 points, as if he cursed the ice for all the following skaters with the impressive bench mark that he set.
Yet, Bruce has no time to ruminate about how that curse can be broken, because as soon as Valley’s points have been announced, the final group of skaters is led onto the ice, and Bruce’s heart skips a beat.
There he is. My boy. My beautiful beloved darling boy.
Dick is shining bright as he glides onto the ice, second-last in the line of skaters that will close off the short programme. The green and yellow rhinestones on his shirt, which is made out of red, see-through mesh, sparkle colourfully and proudly, paired with the red trousers, the Flying Graysons uniform having come to new and exciting life again. Of course, Bruce has seen this costume many times over the past year, but today it appears to be shining more spectacularly than ever before. The only thing outshining it right now is the bright and undaunted grin on Dick’s excited face, and the sight of it does absolutely not begin to make Bruce’s eyes sting. Definitely not, thank you very much.
Bruce has to force his totally non-watery eyes away from his son to acknowledge the other skaters as they are introduced to the audience. Wally will be going first, waving at the enthusiastic crowd at the far end of the line. He’s followed by Tanaka Rei from Japan, who won silver four years ago, Andre Blanc-Dumont from France, who Bruce knows is Dick’s favourite (besides Wally, of course), and Japan’s defending Olympic champion Jiro Osamu. Then, as the penultimate skater, it’s Dick’s turn.
“From the United States of America, RICHARD GRAYSON!”
In unison, the entire Wayne family screams at the top of their lungs, but much to Bruce’s surprise it’s not just them, far from it, in fact. As a visibly happy Dick waves at the audience, he receives the loudest cheer by far out of anybody in his group from the arena, even including Korea’s Four Continents champion Connor Hawke who’s skating last.
As soon as the skaters begin to warm-up, Bruce’s eyes instantly zoom back to his son, who seems to be completely focussed, more focussed in fact that Bruce may have seen him before, not just this season, but ever. Bruce’s attention is only distracted when the arena announcer reads out Wally’s credits.
“He is a two-time World champion who won his third Grand Prix Final and third National Championship title this season. In last week’s Olympic team event, he scored a season’s best in the short programme to win a silver medal overall. Representing the United States of America, WALLACE WEST!”
Bruce cheers and claps loudly, although he’s still holding a grudge at the fact that Wally, and with him the entire Team USA, was cheated out of a well-deserved gold medal. Yet based on Wally’s trademark carefree grin as he waves at the audience, he’s put the events of last week in the past and is now completely zeroed in on the present moment.
As is Dick, to whom Bruce’s gaze instantly returns, completely ignoring the announcements of the others skaters. Dick executes a few easy jumps and earns spontaneous audience applause for a textbook triple Axel that looks completely effortless, but otherwise he seems to take things easy, focussing more on getting a feel for the ice and his bending his knees as deeply as he can. At last, it’s time for Dick’s resumé to be announced and once more Bruce’s heart skips a beat.
“He is a two-time Junior World champion and a three-time Junior National champion who placed second at the Four Continents Championship this season. At the Stockholm World Championships last year, he became the first jumper in history to land a quadruple Axel in competition and won gold. Representing the United States of America, RICHARD GRAYSON”
Once more, the entire Wayne family scream as loud as they can, Tim and Jason holding up their large sign that reads ‘ROBIN FOR GOLD’ and Damian gesturing wildly in the direction of the jumbotron that’s currently showing Dick’s happy smile.
Dick seems so relaxed, it’s almost like he’s about to perform in an exhibition, rather than in the most important competition of his life, and Bruce feels like his chest is about to burst with paternal pride. He’s never been one of those dads to push their children into a career in the spotlight. If anything, Bruce used to be the cautionary voice in the family who wanted to wrap up his first son in a protective blanket and never let him go again. The first few years at school were tough for Dick, with him being a Romani orphan who’d been raised in the circus and then got adopted by one of the richest men in the planet. There’s been so much malice coming Dick’s way, even before he decided to become a competitive figure skater. And yet here he is, putting himself on display to be judged on the biggest athletic stage in the world, and yet unlike all previous competitions this season, he seems unfazed by it. On the contrary, Dick appears to be enjoying and embracing the moment.
How far you’ve come, Chum, Bruce wants to say to him, and he makes a silent vow that he will say so after the event, regardless of how it goes…
After another couple of minutes, the warm-up is over and all skaters except Wally leave the ice. The ginger earns a massive cheer as he’s announced, most of all from the Wayne family and from the other US skaters sitting close-by, and skates to the centre of the ice, his black and green costume setting a striking contrast to his fiery hair.
The dark, atmospheric electronica of his short programme music begins, and Wally starts his routine. Despite Wally’s great performance in the team event, the programme still brings back memories in Bruce’s head of Wally’s disastrous implosion at US Nationals. Yet all thoughts of that performance are cleared from Bruce’s head when Wally lands a perfect quad Lutz triple toe loop combination to open the programme which earns him a huge cheer from the crowd. His second jumping element, a huge quad flip, goes flawlessly as well, and when Wally finally nails his last element, a triple Axel, too, Bruce cannot stop himself from shouting “YES!” alongside Jason on his left.
Wally is ON today, Bruce marvels silently.
Wally’s skating even faster, bigger and more aggressively than ever before, as if the result in the team event has unleashed a fire in him to become an ever more energetic skater than he ever was.
When the programme finishes, the entire arena instantly jumps to their feet and Wally bumps a victorious fist in the air.
“This HAS to be enough!”, Jason exclaims emphatically once he’s stopped screaming for his big brother’s boyfriend, and Bruce’s murmurs, “Let’s hope so”, feeling more sceptical than he’d care to admit.
Wally and his coach Barry Allen, at the very least, seem ecstatic when the ginger steps off the ice and the two cross over to the Kiss & Cry. Meanwhile, the jumbotron is recapping some of Wally’s elements in slow-motion, proving that this may well have been the best short programme of Wally’s whole career.
But then again, didn’t we say that about his short in the team event, too?
“The scores, please.”
Bruce holds his breath.
A moment of silence. Then –
“Wallace West from the United States of America has earned in the short programme 114.23 points, which is a new personal best. He is currently in first place.”
In the Kiss & Cry, Wally and Barry jump to their feet, and so too do Bruce, Tim, and Jason.
“He’s done it!”, Jason shouts ecstatically, “he’s actually done it!”
Wally West has beaten Valentin Streltsov in the short programme at the Olympics! Justice has been served. Mind you, it was by the thinnest of margins. No more than 0.11 points separate the two skaters. But this time, it’s the better of the two skaters who actually came out ahead, and rightfully so.
“Wait!”, Tim’s giddy voice breaks through the waves of cheers still running across the stands. “Did Wally just set a new World record?”
The prompt answer comes from Jason. “Oh my God, yes, you’re right, Timmy, he did! Streltsov got 114.15 in the team event. This IS a new World record! GO WALLY!!!”
May wonders never cease, Bruce marvels in silent amazement.
“GO WALLY!!!”, Tim joins his brother in cheering.
Bruce would pay very good money to have a camera backstage on Valentin Streltsov’s face right about now…
After Wally’s World record, the next three skaters pass Bruce by in a blurry face. He barely can focus on their performances and scores, his mind constantly drifting off to imagine what Dick must be doing and feeling that very moment. If Bruce’s heart beat is accelerating with every minute they get closer to Dick’s skate, then what in the hell must his son be going through right now?
A completely new kind of respect for Dick’s mental strength rises up in Bruce at the thought.
The skaters between Wally and Dick, meanwhile, deliver mixed results. Japan’s Tanaka Rei, silver medallist in Munich four years ago, sadly implodes in an error-ridden short programme to ‘Boom Boom Pow’ by the Black Eyed Peas that will struggle to even get him into the penultimate warm-up group for the free skate tomorrow. France’s Andre Blanc-Dumont, on the other hand, delivers a gorgeous free programme to Erik Satie’s Trois Gnossiennes. Dick, who’s been a huge fan of his for years, once told Bruce that Blanc-Dumont is known for being less technically gifted than he is artistically. Today, though, none of these technical weaknesses come through in his performance, which earns him a personal best of 103.21 points. That’s still over 10 points behind the top two, but as only the third skater to score over 100 points, he might be a surprising contender for the podium tomorrow, and a more than deserving one too, in Bruce’s eyes.
Lastly, right before Dick, it’s the turn of defending Olympic champion Jiro Osamu. Performing a very sophisticated and elegant programme to Schubert’s Impromptus, Osamu definitely does better than his Japanese team mate, but does not quite match the wow moment that Andre Blanc-Dumont created just before him. Thus, Osamu scores more than 100 points, but falls behind the Frenchman at 101.87 points, something that the Japanese skater is clearly unhappy with, judging by the disappointed expression on his face.
Not that Bruce has any capacity to notice these things, because as soon as Osamu walks off the ice, Bruce’s eyes become glued onto the raven-haired boy who just stepped onto it.
This is happening, he thinks breathlessly, this is really happening. Dick’s about to compete at the OIympics. Instinctively, Bruce’s right hand reaches for Talia, while his left one goes for Jason. Bruce is not a very spiritual person. Still, if the only thing they can do right now to support Dick is to channel as much positive energy towards him as they possibly can, then they sure as hell will send their boy enough energy to fill up an entire multiverse.
While the recap of Osamu’s programme is still playing, Dick is calmly skating round the rink and comes close to their seats, at which point an excited Damian calls out “DiDi!”. Much to Bruce’s surprise, Dick actually hears it and looks up towards their seats, an unexpectant smile on his face. Bruce’s and Dick’s eyes only meet for less than a second, but it’s enough for them to nod at each other and transfer some of Dick’s apparent confidence into his father.
Everything’s gonna be alright, Bruce concludes, taking in the serene expression on his son’s face, he just knows it.
Once Osamu’s scores have been announced, it’s time.
“Our next skater represents the United States of America. RICHARD GRAYSON!”
“COME ON, CHUM, KNOCK ‘EM DEAD!!!!!!!”
Bruce’s body feels like it’s about to explode. Excitement, anticipation, anxiety, nervousness, stress, happiness, pride – it all blends into one huge, all-encompassing volcano of emotion that he has never felt before. It’s all come down to this one moment. The moment that Dick has worked towards for more than half his life.
My little Robin is about to soar across the ice.
In the quiet of the arena when Dick assumes his opening pose, Bruce’s heart is thumping so loudly that he thinks the entire arena must be able to hear it.
The irresistible bass line of Silver Convention’s ‘Fly Robin Fly’ kicks in, and immediately the entire arena, Bruce included, throw skating etiquette out of the window and begin clapping along to the beat. The programme hasn’t even started, and the audience is already putty in Dick’s hand. And what’s best: Dick knows it too, starting to shake his hips playfully and throwing a cheeky wink over his shoulder at the judges, in full-on unadulterated Boy Wonder mode.
As the beat takes over the music, Dick starts gathering speed, preparing for his opening combination. On cue with the first “Fly” in the song, he takes off into the quad Lutz, and Bruce’s heart surely must have jumped out of his body and right there onto the ice with Dick – because what other explanation can there be for the out-of-body experience he’s having right now?
In the blink of an eye, Dicks adds a triple toe loop. “YESSS!!!!”, Bruce screams shamelessly when Dick lands the second part of the combination just as perfectly as the first one. The second quad jump, the loop, comes next, and once again Dick nails it.
He’s doing it, he’s really doing it!, Bruce mind races in wordless ecstasy. Only one more jump!
The triple Axel is last. For somebody who’s capable of jumping a freaking quadruble Axel, Bruce shouldn’t be nearly as nervous as he is right now about Dick’s capacity to jump a triple. Still, Bruce once more holds his breath when Dick kicks off into the air – only to let out a primal scream of relief when Dick effortlessly lands on his right skate, its blade cutting through the ice like butter.
Even though he’s been serving face from the very first second of his programme, it’s after the triple Axel, in the knowledge that he’s nailed all three jumping passes, when the speed of Barbara’s genius music edit picks up that Dick the Circus Kid™ takes centre stage. Y’all want a show?, his cheeky grin seems to say as he moves into his one-in-a-million step sequence. I’m gonna give y’all a show.
When the ever-intensifying remix reaches its final crescendo and Dick’s spins his lithe body around faster than any other skater before him, the audience is so frantic that they can barely keep to their seats any more. Finally, the music ends, Dick throws his arms out like the wings of a bird, and there is no holding back anymore.
Bruce jumps to his feet, as do Talia and Damian next him. Jason and Tim are bouncing up and down as if they are drunk of gummi bear juice while also trying to hold up their ‘ROBIN FOR GOLD’ sign above their head. Even Alfred is on his feet and clapping his hands faster than Bruce has ever seen them move before.
Collectively, their voices are one large, indeterminate scream of euphoria that will definitely take its toll on their vocal chords tomorrow morning.
But looking at the relieved grin on Dick’s face as he’s bowing happily to the four sides of the arena which is showering the ice with stuffed elephants, Bruce could not care less. Dick’s made it. He’s actually made it. He’s gone on to the ice and delivered the best short programme of his life. Gone are in the insecurities and hesitations that still held him back at Four Continents. This is the kind of Dick Grayson who simply knows that he’s the best and who’s going to prove it to you, come what may.
After Dick is done bowing to the arena, he once again turns to their section and meets Bruce’s gaze. He doesn’t need to be a detective to interpret the words that his son just mouthed in his direction.
I love you.
“Love you, too, Chum”, Bruce mumbles under his breath, as a few stray tears finally roll down his cheeks and his son picks up an elephant dressed in the colours of the Romani flag.
At the boards, Dick is greeted by Selina Kyle and Mr Fries, who both look like they stole some of his sons’ gummi bear juice, judging from how giddily they are bouncing once they throw their arms around Dick. The giddiness does not stop on the way to the Kiss & Cry nor during the recap of Dick’s programme.
In Bruce’s chest, though, nerves flare up again during the recap, remembering that Dick’s score will be announced in just a few seconds. Sure, Dick skated flawlessly and if the audience was judging, it would be a landslide victory for Dick. But Wally and Valentin were perfect too. What if the judges think that Dick’s still so young and that he can come back and win gold in four years, and therefore keep his score low just because of that?
Instinctively, Bruce reaches for Talia’s and Jason’s hands again, which are just as sweaty as his despite the cold air inside the arena, as the voice of the announcer brings a tense quiet over the crowd.
“The scores, please.”
Never in his life could Bruce Wayne have imagined that a single second might feel as long – no, as infinite – as the one that follows the announcer’s sentence. It’s the worst wait he has ever experienced.
Then the voice comes back.
“Richard Grayson from the United States of America has earned in the short programme 114.65 points, which is a new personal best. He is currently in first place.”
It’s the screams from Jason and Tim that Bruce perceives first, far too shell-shocked to notice anything else around him. Next, his eyes suddenly go very blurry and the image of Dick, Selina and Victor hugging each other on the jumbotron is washed away by a fresh wave of tears.
“He’s …first…”, Bruce whispers disbelievingly, “….Dick’s first.”
“Not just first”, the still-bouncing Jason next to him explains jubilantly, “Dickie just set a new World record!!! At the freaking Olympics!!!”
Bruce needs what feels to him like forever to process Jason’s words. At long last, however, an almighty sob shakes his upper body, and he buries his face in his hands, barely registering Talia wrap her left arm around him.
Only now, as endless tears of happiness flow down his face, does Bruce realize how much shared pressure has been laying on his shoulders in recent weeks. Not because he wanted to bask in the glory of Dick’s success and take credit for it, but because he simply wants his son to be happy and fulfil his life-long dream. And now, it looks like this might actually be happening.
By the time Bruce has calmed down and looks up again, Dick has already returned backstage and the final skater, Connor Hawke from Korea, has taken to the ice. Bruce suddenly feels very conflicted, watching the 16-year-old assume his opening pose. On the one hand, he really does not want anyone to get in-between Dick and the Olympic medal, now that he’s so unbelievably close to it. On the other hand, Connor seems like a really nice boy, from what Dick has told about him after Four Continents, and completely deserving of all the success that has been coming his way all season.
…As long as his success doesn’t take away from Dick’s success…
Connor did beat Dick in the short programme at Four Continents, although Dick was far from his best that day. Plus, Connor’s personal best in the short still lags more than 10 points behind what Dick just delivered. Still, who’s to say that Connor might not deliver another all-time skate just like Dick?
Connor starts off his short programme to Mission Impossible expectantly strong with the same quad combo that Dick and Wally also showed. From there on, his routine is excitingly and expertly performed, yet Bruce cannot help but like the performance, despite its iconic music, is somewhat of a let-down after Dick. Granted, most things would be, considering the galactic response to Dick’s performance. Still, if any performance is going to take away Dick’s gold medal, Bruce has a sneaky suspicion that it’s not going to be this one.
And he shall be proven correct.
“Connor Hawke from the Republic of Korea has earned in the short programme 107.34 points, which is a new personal best. He is currently in fourth place.”
Bruce exhales a deep breath of relief that he did not know he was holding in when Hawke’s points are announced. A personal best, but not good enough to threaten the top three.
“This concludes the men’s short programme. The competition continues tomorrow at 6pm with the men’s free skate.”
Letting his head rest against his seat for a moment, Bruce briefly closes his eyes. Although he’s been in the arena less than two hours in total, Bruce feels like he’s aged several years in that time. And yet, he will gladly do it all again tomorrow if it means that Dick’s dream will come true.
***
“OOMPPFH”, Dick groans, when first Tim’s tiny body and then the slightly larger Jason barrel into their older brother and wrap their arms around him. An appreciative smile quickly lights up Dick’s face and he returns the gesture.
“DIDI!!!”
Of course Damian wants to join the fun too and eagerly climbs from Talia’s arms into Dick’s, accompanied by a kiss of Dick’s head from Talia.
“Easy there, boys”, Bruce cautions them gently, “Your brother still has a gold medal to win tomorrow.”
They are currently back stage in the Olympic Ice Arena to congratulate Dick who just finished the press conference and is still wearing his Robin-coloured short programme costume, covered by his Team USA jacket.
“Haha, all good, Dad”, Dick laughs fondly, ruffling his three brothers’ hairs one by one. “Who am I to say no to a good Robin group hug?”
“Well, speaking of hugs”, Bruce continues and on cue Dick loosens his hold of Tim and Jason and hands Damian back to Talia to be wrapped up in the massive protective arms of his father. “Well done, Chum. How far you’ve come”, Bruce says into the raven nest that is Dick’s mob of hair. “I’m so freaking proud of you.”
Dick says nothing, but merely tightens his arms around Bruce’s torso, which is all the answer he needs right now.
Clearing her throat as if to lighten the emotional mood, Talia comments cheekily, “Yes, so proud of you, indeed, that your father shed genuine tears, of which I may or may not have snapped a little shot when he wasn’t looking.”
Bruce raises a mock-offended eye brow and shoots back, “So that’s what I get for bringing along the whole band, huh? Treason?”
“No, Sir”, Alfred interjects and in typically composed deadpan. “That is what you get for so rarely letting out your emotions like a Homo Sapiens so that we have to document it when you do let them out.” Then, having caused a sufficiently embarrassed blush on Bruce’s face, Alfred turns to Dick and speaks, “Luckily, this young Master has no problem with that. Congratulations, Master Richard.” Alfred gives Dick a gentle but nonetheless empathetic hug, which Dick returns appreciatively.
“Thank you, Alfred”, Dick finally says, genuine gratitude in his voice. “Thank all of you, for being here. It really made such a huge difference.”
That very moment, a broadly smiling Selina Kyle, followed by an usually cheerful Victor Fries, who looks to be in better health than in a while, turn the corner in the hallway, prompting Bruce to remark, “Well, I hope that there will be no difference in the results tomorrow, either.” In the direction of Dick’s coaches, he adds, “What’s your plan for our Boy Wonder?”
“Sleep and rest”, Victor Fries answers authoritatively. “Today couldn’t have gone better, but I doubt that Streltsov is giving up without a fight. It’s still way too close to call.”
“But what about the pairs’ free skate tonight?”, Dick suddenly exclaims. “Kory and Roy could still medal tonight!”
Bruce has completely forgotten that there is still another event happening tonight, even though he did watch the pairs’ short programme live in the arena yesterday. Kory and Roy delivered another flawless short programme, just like they did in the team event. Unfortunately for them, so did the Chinese pair and the top two pairs from Russia too, unlike the team event, so that Kory and Roy, whose technical content is slightly below that of their competitors, only ended up in fourth place. Nonetheless, the point margins are so small that anything could still happen.
“Dick”, Selina reminds him friendly but firmly, “the free skate won’t be over before 10, and you need to be on the practice ice again tomorrow morning at 7. Sometimes, your own needs take priority over the needs of others.”
Seeing the disappointed expression on his son’s face, Bruce adds, “Plus, Roy Harper and you are such good friends that I doubt he will be mad if you’re not in the arena tonight. He knows exactly how important it is to rest your body the night before an important competition. Nowhere more so than at the Olympics.”
“I know”, Dick sighs, “I just want to be a good friend to him, that’s all.”
“Trust me, kiddo”, Victor Fries chuckles, stepping forward to place a large hand on Dick’s shoulder. “The best thing you can do for him right now is to get back to the hotel, win that gold medal tomorrow and make Roy the proudest big skating bro the world has ever seen.”
A smile reappears on Dick’s face, who now chuckles himself and says, “Sounds like a plan”.