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He couldn’t do this. No matter what Bruce said, he couldn’t do this. All those people, watching him. Expecting him to act “proper” and “sophisticated” and give his best performance in a show he’d never even seen. He was a performer, sure, everyone knew that. He was born to thrive in the spotlight. To fly.
But not like this. This wasn’t flying. This was falling. Falling and knowing the only thing that waited for him at the bottom was an unforgiving dirt floor and the flash of a thousand cameras thrilled to broadcast his mistakes all over the city that was supposed to be his home.
He couldn’t do this.
Dick sniffled, careful to keep the picture in his hands held far enough away from his chest that it wouldn’t get splashed. Six faces stared up at him, smiling just like they always had, their expressions frozen in a time when life was simpler. When life was familiar. When his parents were still…
“Dickie? You almost ready?”
Dick jumped at the sudden knock on the door— his door, this was his house now, his room, his door. It was almost time to go. Bruce was there. Bruce was checking on him.
And Dick wasn’t ready to be checked on.
“Just a minute!” he called, trying to keep his voice as even and normal as he could as he shoved his photograph into his jacket and swiped at his eyes before running over to the door.
Bruce smiled down at him as soon as he opened the door, but he’d hardly met the man’s eyes before Bruce was on his knees, his face melting into one of concern.
“Dickie? What’s wrong, chum?”
Apparently, that question was all it took for the dam to break.
He threw himself at Bruce, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and crying into his shoulder.
Bruce just wrapped his arms around Dick’s back, rubbing small circles into his jacket, not saying a word. Just waiting. Waiting for Dick to speak.
“I can’t…!” he finally mumbled into the older man’s ear. “I don’t know what to do, they’re all gonna laugh! And then you… You’re gonna—”
“I’m going to take you home,” Bruce interrupted before Dick could finish the thought. “And I’m going to make you hot chocolate. With mountains of whipped cream and marshmallows. And tell you it doesn’t matter. No matter what happens tonight, it won’t matter.”
He pulled away then, keeping Dick close, but far enough away to look him in the eyes. He was slightly shorter than Dick, kneeling on the ground like he was, so he looked up into the boy’s face as he brushed the hair out of his eyes and wiped the tears from his cheek.
“I might not be your dad, Dickie,” Bruce went on. “But I love you. No matter what. Just do your best. Smile, greet people, show them how amazing you are. And if it’s too much, I’ll be right there, ok?”
Dick sniffled once more, but nodded his head. Smile, greet, charm. Don’t swing from the chandeliers while in a fancy suit. They’d been over this. He could do this.
He could do this, right?
“And…” Bruce smiled a little. “If it gets too much, you’re the best hide and seek player in this whole house. I’m sure if you need to, no one could find you.”
Dick laughed a little, the sound wet even in his own ears. But they’d played hide and seek so many times since he came to live with Bruce and it always took him so long to find Dick. And besides, Bruce was giving him permission to hide. If he needed to.
Bruce waited for him to breathe for a few more seconds, then smiled encouragingly as he wiped his eyes and fixed his hair.
He could do this. Dick could do this.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tim couldn’t do this. Mom and Dad said he was ready. That he was old enough. But that didn’t mean they were right. That didn’t mean he could really do this. Make them proud, and more importantly not embarrass them. Just because they said he could do it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to mess up and say something he shouldn’t say or do something he shouldn’t do.
There were so many rules. Stand up straight, walk proper, talk with purpose, always be polite, but never ask for something, never show weakness, sweet talk everyone,yet insult them without them catching on, spill nothing, talk loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to draw too much attention. The list went on.
He couldn’t do this.
Tim looked down as his mother finished tying his tie and bit his lip nervously.
“ Timothy,” she flicked his chin and Tim pulled his head back up to meet her eyes in an instant.
“None of that,” she scolded, her eyes dark. “Keep your chin up. The only emotions anyone should ever see are the ones you want them to.”
Tim swallowed, puffing out his chest with a confidence he couldn’t find. “Yes, Ma’am.”
His mother nodded curtly, then frowned as if she’d noticed something. Tim stiffened, fighting to stay still and not squirm under her gaze. She took his chin between her fingers and lifted his face upward, frowning deeper at whatever it was she saw.
Tim had done something wrong. He didn’t know what but he’d done something and she was going to scold him and yell at him and load him into the car and keep yelling in front of Dad and the driver and she wouldn’t stop until they got the Wayne's house and—
She sighed, something in her expression melting just slightly. Almost like she was sorry.
“Are you still having nightmares, Timothy?”
Tim froze, confused.
How did she know? He thought he hid it. He didn’t know she could see it. He didn’t know that she could…
The Graysons.
Everytime he closed his eyes he saw them, falling. Always falling. And the boy, Dick. He was crying. Screaming. And Batman…
His mother sighed again, pulling him out of his thoughts. She took his hand then and led him back to her room, then to her bathroom, and pulled out a small bottle of a light brown goop. He made sure to hold still as she put some under his eyes and rubbed it in carefully. She pulled out a few other containers and put that stuff on his face too, and he made sure to hold still as she worked. It only took a couple minutes before she stepped back, apparently satisfied with her work.
“There, now, no one can tell. You’ll be a perfect little man, yes?”
Tim nodded hastily, repeating the words he’d already said that night. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good.” She stood up straight and took his hand as she walked him out of the room. “Remember, be good. Greet people, charm them, show them what a good boy you are. We want them to like you. Understood?”
Tim resisted the urge to swallow, instead setting his shoulders and standing up straighter. He could do this. It couldn’t be that hard. Just walk around. Be good. Greet people.
He could do this.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“No no no,” Mrs. Gallet turned up her nose and huffed in annoyance for the third time as Dick just tried to eat a cracker.
Seriously, what was her problem? It was just a cracker with some funny tasting dark orbs. It wasn’t even that good.
“Not like that!” She sighed in defeat as she snapped at a waiter to come closer so she could snag a similar snack. She made a huge show about eating it the “proper” way, but Dick couldn’t even tell the difference.
It was just a cracker. A little snack. He didn’t even know there was a proper way to eat it until she made a huge fuss about him doing it wrong. He shrugged and popped the rest of his cracker into his mouth. It wasn’t even that good.
“Hopeless,” Mrs. Gallet huffed, turning to the lady next to her to pretend Dick wasn’t there. “Simply hopeless .”
Whoever the other woman was nodded, apparently agreeing with her that Dick shouldn't even be here.
Dick stared up at the two women for another few moments as he chewed, his presence now completely ignored as they went on about the horrors of even letting him into this party. Despite that he lived here now. But really, maybe that was what they were upset about. Not that he was in the party, but that he was here at all, in a big house, with a life that wasn’t his.
He glanced between the two women, briefly considering defending himself, but thought better of it. They weren’t going to listen and he’d probably just make the whole thing worse. It wasn’t like anyone wanted to hear what “the circus freak” had to say anyway.
He sighed and turned away from the women who didn’t even notice as he slipped away into the rest of the crowd. He didn’t have a destination, really, he’d tried going for the food but snacking was clearly a bad idea, and talking was apparently even worse. Maybe he was short enough no one would even see him and he could just spend the rest of the evening walking around the room like a spy, silent and invisible, just like Alfred had been teaching him. Most people were too busy turning up their noses to look down so as long as he didn’t bump into anyone, he shouldn’t have a problem, right?
He grunted as he collided with someone or something that he hadn’t noticed. The thing—apparently much smaller than Dick—fell back with a surprised squeak as he landed on his butt on the floor.
Dick opened his mouth to apologize but the kid—the baby, that human couldn’t be more than four—was already scrambling back to his feet and beating Dick to the punch.
“Excuse me!” he blurted out, his words accompanied with a shuffle to the side that made it clear he was horrified with himself for being in the way. Despite that it had clearly been Dick’s fault.
But the kid didn’t seem to care about that part, instead, he was focused on smoothing down his miniature suit, making sure everything was in the exact right place and still perfect. He even bit his lip as he concentrated before seeming to remember something and snapping his head up, frantically glancing around the room as he puffed his chest out and stood up straighter. He searched the room for a few seconds before his eye caught on a man and a woman with their backs to him and he relaxed just slightly, letting out a small sigh of relief.
Dick frowned at that. Apparently getting run over by an older kid and biting your lip as you smooth out your suit was a punishable offense in high society… One the kid was scared of getting caught at… Dick didn’t like it.
The child turned to him then, his big blue eyes widening in wonder as he started up at Dick, utterly starstruck. And that face…
Dick froze as he recognized that face. He’d seen this small child before. Right? He couldn't be imaging it…
He shoved a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photo he’d put there just a couple hours before. All six film faces stared back at him, just like earlier. Just like always.
There was his dad, then two strangers, then his mom. Then, in the middle of the photo, sitting on Dick’s knee, was a kid with big blue eyes, completely in awe of everything around him.
Dick glanced between the kid in the photo and the one standing in front of him. He looked different with his suit and tie instead of the red hoodie and sneakers he’d been wearing the first time they met, but there was no mistaking it. Dick had never thought he’d see that kid again, but here he was, frozen in shock and staring up at Dick like he was about to whisk him away to safety.
Well, Bruce had given him permission to hide… He never said anything about not being allowed to kidnap a baby while he did so.
Dick grinned and grabbed the kid’s hand, pulling him along with him as he ducked between people and headed for the door. The kid barely struggled, likely wanting to get out of the stuffy ballroom just as much as Dick did. He squeaked something that sounded like “Mr. Grayson” but Dick ignored him, at least until they got out and could actually talk without all the other sounds drowning them out.
He led the kid out into the hall, then past the huge entryway, down another hall, and into the family room.
“Mr. Grayson…?” The kid looked up at him, still starstruck, but with a hint of fear now which Dick couldn’t help feeling bad about. “Where are we going?”
“Right here,” Dick spread his arms wide to motion to the room around them, filled with comfortable couches, fluffy blankets, a softly crackling fire, and—most importantly—no other people. “Best room in the whole house.” He grinned and flopped back onto his favorite couch, wadding up a blanket and tossing it in the kid’s direction. It hit the kid square in the chest and he grunted, but was otherwise unfazed.
“Ummm, Mr. Grayson?”
Dick laughed, finally at ease for the first time that night, and sat up to look over at the kid. “Please just call me Dick.”
“Oh.” The kid looked down at the wad of blankets in his hands and almost smiled a little. “Ok, Mr—Dick.” He smiled a little more, then looked back up to meet Dick’s eyes. “Umm… What’s this for?”
The kid frowned in confusion as he held up the blanket and Dick frowned back. Had the kid never been a burrito before?
“Cuddling!” Dick grinned, pulling another blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it tightly around his shoulders. “It’s comfy! Relaxing! Come on!” He patted the spot on the couch beside him in invitation, but the kid just stared at him blankly. Like he’d never been summoned to a seat before. Or sat next to someone. Weird.
“Come on!” Dick repeated, careful to keep his voice even and patient. “Come sit with me! Watch the fire! Alfred made cookies too!” Dick grinned, grabbing the plate of fresh cookies Alfred had left on the end table for Bruce and Dick after the gala.
That—thankfully, finally —got the kid’s attention. He smiled a little and scrambled up onto the couch, sitting down beside Dick but leaving enough space between them as to not touch the older boy. Then he set the blanket down across his lap, careful not to wrinkle his fancy baby suit.
Oh well. At least he was out of the stress of the ballroom, they could work on relaxing later. He held out the plate of cookies and the kid took one, smiling wider as he nibbled at it.
“You got a name, kid?”
The kid nodded around his mouthful of snickerdoodle, waiting until he had politely swallowed before answering.
“Timothy Drake,” he said proudly, sitting up straighter and puffing out his chest. Then, oddly, he glanced around the room, almost as if he were confirming no one else was there, before he deflated and said in a much softer tone, “Tim.”
Dick grinned. “Hi Tim! Nice to meet you again!”
Tim froze, eyes going wide again as he stared in shock.
“You…” He paused, taking a deep breath as he tried to speak above a whisper. “You remember me?”
“‘Course I do.” Dick smiled softly, once again pulling out the photo from his jacket pocket. “You sent me this, right?”
He remembered that day perfectly. It was only a week after it had happened. Alfred came into his room to announce he had mail. A single photograph had been slipped into the mailbox. No envelope, no address, just the photo. Alfred said the security tapes showed a little boy dropping it off. Undoubtedly the boy in the picture, though how he got there or got through their security was anyone’s guess.
“I…uh…” Tim looked between Dick and the picture, then blushed, trying to hide his smile behind his cookie. “Yeah…”
“Thank you,” Dick whispered, tears filling his eyes. “It’s… It’s one of my favorite photos of them. Thank you.”
Tim smiled more, dropping his gaze as he nodded.
Dick couldn’t take it any longer and set the photo down before reaching over and pulling the kid into a hug. Tim froze at the contact and Dick feared for a moment that the kid had stopped breathing, then, just when he was about to let go, Tim absolutely melted. He dropped his cookie somewhere between the couch cushions as every part of his body went limp. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he wrapped his arms around Dick.
Dick smiled and pulled the kid tighter. Until he felt a wet spot on his button up.
He frowned, pulling away just enough to look down at the kid. The kid who had tears running down his face, though no other part of his body betrayed the emotion. He was completely silent, not even shaking.
“Tim…?” Dick whispered, pulling away a little more so he could wipe the tears off the kid’s face. “Tim, what’s wrong?”
“Nothin’,” Tim mumbled back, his perfect accent slipping as he shifted to get closer. “This…” he paused, almost like he was struggling to put words to the action. “ This is nice.”
Dick froze, subconsciously pulling the kid closer, tighter, protecting him. “A hug…?” he whispered, scared he already knew the answer.
Tim hesitated, then nodded. “Hug. Yeah. It’s nice.”
Dick stared down at the kid in horror, hating the implications of that statement.
He’d never been hugged before.
Tim didn’t even know what a hug was .
Dick pulled him so close he started to worry he might strangle the kid, but Tim didn’t seem to mind. He melted into the touch, slowly making the wet spot on Dick’s shirt bigger.
“Oh,” Dick whispered, at a loss for what else he could say. “Well… You can come over. Whenever you want.”
Tim tensed slightly, shifting in Dick’s arms to look up at him, eyes wet and wide. Hopeful.
“Free hugs,” Dick went on, meeting the kid’s eyes, blinking back a few tears of his own. “Whenever you want.”
Tim smiled, then burrowed back into Dick’s chest and closed his eyes. Just enjoying the moment.
Dick laid his head on top of the kid’s, surrounding him as much as possible. Just like Dad and Mom used to do. Just like Bruce did now. Surrounded, protected, loved.
Dick could only imagine a life without hugs. There was no way he’d let this kid grow up not having to imagine.