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Phone calls in the middle of the night were one of Jason’s least favourite sounds, along with uncovered sneezes, Tim Drake’s obnoxious laughter, and fireworks outside of firework season.
Dick hated to be that guy, he really did, but he was desperate. Really, truly, sobbing for hours, tearing his hair out, ready to throw up desperate. He had a vague sense that he was giving in to dramatics and making himself feel worse, but hey. He was the youngest sibling, he had some right to that.
But Lord, the sound of that ringing. Dick squeezed the spiral cord between his fingers, one loop at a time, trying his hardest to keep his eyes open. Every blink showed him Jason, awoken from a peaceful sleep, trying to ignore the ringing, picking up and dropping the phone back in its cradle, somehow knowing it was Dick calling and blocking the number.
Irrational. It wasn't real. Jason would never ignore a call, no matter how inconvenient the hour was. No matter how long it had been since they'd spoken. Jason hated late-night calls because he feared bad news, that's all. And Dick had good news. Mostly.
The ringing only continued. This was stupid. Dick moved to hang up.
"Whomever the fuck this is had better have a damn good reason for calling this late. Start talking."
Dick was frozen, fingers woven through the phone cable. He picked up. He picked up.
"Hello ? I can hear you breathing. Who is this ?"
Say something.
"Um. Jason ?"
" Dick ?! Shit, hold on– stop that ," Jason hissed, a soft oof accompanied by a loud clatter sounding through the phone. Dick giggled, feeling a little hysterical.
"Um. Yeah. It's me. Are you okay ?"
"Yeah, it's just my– uh, cat." Another clatter, and the sound of Jason's hand over the receiver as he spoke to someone. Dick was sure he heard muffled laughter cut off by the creak of a door closing. "Jesus, Dickie. You have any idea what time it is here ? Where the fuck are you ?"
"California." Dick slowly untangled his hand, feeling his giddy heart sink into his gut. "I know it's late. I just– it's nothing. Sorry to wake you."
"I wasn't asleep– fuck, that's not the point. Don't you dare hang up on me," Jason warned, voice thick. "Two years, Dick. California, Jesus… No letter, no call ? I know you and Bruce were in the trenches and all, but what about the rest of us ? You coulda been dead in a ditch for all we knew."
"I know. I'm sorry," Dick whispered and took a shuddering breath. "I really am sorry, birdie. I missed you so much. I just couldn't… I just couldn't. I didn't want to go back, I didn’t– I just wanted–"
“Dick.”
He stopped breathing at the hardness in Jason’s tone.
“Yes ?”
“Tell me why you’re calling.”
“It’s good news, actually.” He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t. “I made some friends out here. Really good ones. We all live together - it’s kind of terrible, actually. And definitely illegal. But we love it.”
“That’s nice to hear.”
“It’s kinda the best thing that’s ever happened to me. After meeting you.”
“Get to the point, Dickie.”
“I booked my top surgery,” Dick rushed through, and suddenly the words wouldn’t come out fast enough. “I booked– and they all took time off to come see me, but it’s spring break, right ? So we all need the tips, and I’ll not be working for a month, at least, and I’ve saved up rent and everything obviously, but– they moved my surgery date, and nobody can come to sign me in because they’re all working , and Wally’s got holidays so he would but he doesn’t have a licence even though he drives us sometimes anyway, and the hospital needs proof of ID for discharge and pickup and– and–”
“ Dick . Calm down, Jesus,” Jason breathed, sounding more stressed at the outburst than Dick did. “You booked your surgery ? Wow, buddy. That’s big, that’s really big. I’m really proud of you.”
“Thanks,” Dick whispered. “I’m just– I’ve waited so long , Jason, and I wanted to do it my way. I don’t want to lose this.”
“So– explain what the issue is again ? They won’t check you in alone ?”
“It’s inpatient, and I’ll be there at least two nights. So they need someone who can be there for support and drive me home, and if there’s a complication or I have to stay longer or something, I have to guarantee a support person. The days just don’t line up right.”
“So what you’re asking is…”
Dick laughed wetly and coughed through a bubble of snot tickling his nose. Of course Jason would make him spell it out.
“I’m asking you to be my support person, big brother. I know you have spring break too, so I thought… I mean, if you’re not too busy or anything.”
“Dick. Of course, I’ll be there. When’s your check-in ?”
Silence. Dick squeezed the phone cable like it would answer for him if he just strangled it enough.
“Dickie ?”
“Um. It’s tomorrow afternoon.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake Richard.”
***
It wasn’t the first red-eye Jason had ever flown on, but he generally liked to go to bed early before getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to brave the horrors of a New Jersey airport. As it was, he’d have to be satisfied with clutching a cup of watery, over-extracted coffee and thanking his lucky stars he’d decided against checked luggage.
He couldn’t even swing a pick-up from the airport; Dick was working that morning, one last shift to pick up as many tips as his pretty smile could muster. But he’d promised Jason they had the car for the duration of his stay, so Jason hailed a taxi and set off for the beachside cafe Dick worked at.
Dick’s shift wasn’t quite over when Jason paid the cabbie and hauled his duffle bag through the sliding doors, the slow-building anxiety cresting over him as he swept the room for his brother. His baby brother. His tiny, sweet, emotional, impulsive, idiotic, runaway baby brother who he was going to beat the shit out of at the first opportunity.
And there he was, standing behind the counter, looking to all the world like any other LA transplant working a dead-end job in the city of angels. His naturally tanned skin was darker here, in the generous sun, and the clean white of his uniform shirt seemed to glow against his freckled arms. There was cacao powder smudged across one cheek, milk staining the brown of his apron, and his hair, which had grown significantly, was valiantly trying to remain in its messy bun. He was a mess. But he looked happy .
He was steaming milk with one hand - a task that Jason was pretty sure called for both - and gesticulating wildly with the other, his customer seemingly enthralled by whatever conversation Dick had ensnared them in. Dick didn’t often like being the centre of attention, but he’d always attracted it regardless, with those big honest eyes and vibrant presence. The conversation seemed to pay off when Dick scribbled a smiley face on the cup and handed it over and the customer stuffed a handful of bills in the tip jar. the very well-used tip jar, by the looks of it. Good for him.
A middle-aged lady in a matching apron hip-checked Dick to get his attention and nodded towards Jason, still standing like an idiot in the doorway. Dick met his eyes and audibly squealed, hopping back and forth on his feet rapidly before yanking off his apron and moving to vault over the counter. The lady was clearly familiar with his antics and yanked him back by the collar before he could manage, sending him around the counter instead. Jason moved to meet him in the middle, mouth dry. This was it. Here he was.
“Don’t hit me,” Dick laughed as he ran towards his brother, jumping up to wrap both arms and legs around him in a patented Dick Grayson octopus hug. “I can tell you want to. Don’t hit me. I love you so much.”
“Dickie,” Jason rasped. Oh God, he was getting choked up, right here in front of everybody. He hugged Dick around the shoulders as he slid back down to the ground, beaming up at Jason. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“No, you’re not. C’mon c’mon, we’re on a time crunch, I told Wally we could drop him at school on the way. He’s asleep in the car.”
“Who’s what-?”
Dick was already dragging him out, duffle bag somehow in Dick’s arms now, to the saddest Ford Tempo Jason had ever seen. The blue was nice, at least, in between the peeled paint and rust patches. Dick manually unlocked the trunk and chucked Jason’s bag in, then rapped his knuckles on the back window, startling the sleeping redhead sprawled across the backseat.
“Wally ! My brother’s here,” Dick sing-songed, twisting the key in the door right as Wally pressed the pillar lock, locking it again. “Don’t- just let me do it. Wally. Let go. Stop- I’ll leave you in here. Wally . Oh my gosh.”
Dick finally got the door open to the sound of giggle-snorts from the backseat, and when Jason entered the passenger side, Dick tossed a paper bag in his lap.
“Yesterday’s pastries. Feel free to eat them all and not share a bite with the backseat butthead.”
“Noooo, I haven’t eaten in like, an hour,” Wally whined, draping himself over the back of Jason’s seat and reaching for the bag with both hands. “I’m staaaaarving.”
“You know the magic words.”
“You’re the greatest and most wonderful and bestest friend I have in the whole world and thank you from the bottom of my soulless ginger heart for being so kind and benevolent as to drive me to school ?”
“Well…” Dick paused, making over-dramatic eye contact with Jason. “It’ll do. But Jason gets first pick.”
Jason fished a pink sprinkle doughnut from the bag and handed the rest to Wally in the backseat, who stuffed half a croissant in his mouth before colouring a dramatic shade of pink as he registered his faux pas.
“Um. I’m Wallace West,” he said through his mouthful, waving awkwardly with the other hand. “Thanks. My mom says I’m a growing boy.”
“Broken clocks,” Dick snorted. “Wally, my number one redhead, meet my big brother Jason; answerer of calls, saver of lives, bringer of dreams.”
“You’re such a drama queen– Jesus Christ!”
The conversation cut off abruptly as Dick turned the car on, changed gears, and all but floored it. He spun the wheel like a game show contestant and Jason was left scrambling for his seatbelt while Wally, seemingly unconcerned, continued demolishing his snacks and opened a textbook with the other hand. Dick had proved his adrenaline-seeking ways on many a theme park trip, but Jason had not been prepared for this. And he thought east coast drivers were heavy on the horn.
They made it to Wally’s campus in one blessed piece, and Jason questioned through his nausea why Dick could make a concession for five minutes of blowing kisses through the window and pretending it was physically painful to leave each other, but not for slowing down on corners. It was almost more concerning that they hadn’t crashed or side-swiped any fire hydrants; Dick was clearly well-practised in this insanity.
“Do you always drive like that ?”
“Hey, I’ve been subjected to your lead foot for years,” Dick protested, a laugh bubbling through.
“Listen. I push the speed limit, not the laws of physics. Now get up, we’re switching.”
“Sorry, no-can-do. You’re not on the insurance.”
“You lot can afford insurance ?”
“Nope !” Dick grinned and threw the car back into first gear with relish.
“ Geez , at least let me get the damned seatbelt –!”
***
Even with Dick’s hooligan driving they barely arrived at the hospital in time, and ended up swapping places after all so Jason could park the car. Dick had submitted most of his forms online, but he had one more intake form to hand over and filled it out carefully, chattering with the receptionist while his fingers drummed a nervous tattoo against his thigh. He wasn’t anxious, exactly, but the anticipation was only building higher with each box ticked. Yes, he had insurance. No, he didn’t smoke. Yes, he had someone picking him up; he turned then to see Jason hurrying in behind him, Dick’s backpack slung over his shoulder.
“My brother,” Dick beamed at the receptionist. “He flew all the way from Jersey for me.”
“Isn’t that nice,” he hummed, clearly not that interested. “Your insurance is fine, there’s just your hospital excess to pay. Card ? Here you go… great. Here’s your receipt and intake form. Head down the hall to the right and give this to the nurse’s desk.”
Dick chirped his thanks and grabbed Jason’s hand to pull him down the hallway. It was a nice place with art on the walls and fairly unstressed-looking nurses; a far cry from Dick’s previous visits to public emergency rooms filled with panic and pain and screaming children.
He was shown to his room and given some time to settle in, with the promise of his surgeon coming by soon and a nurse to help him into his scrubs. There wasn’t much to do once Dick had put his things away; a few loose shirts hung up beside a soft dressing gown, a pair of slippers by the bed, toiletries in the bathroom, and a stack of comics by the bed just in case. He hopped up on the bed once everything was in its place, sending his brother a beaming smile.
“Isn’t it so exciting ?”
“I think I’m more nervous than you are,” Jason admitted, running a hand through his hair. Dick could see the anxiety in his movements and reached out, beckoning Jason towards the bed to take his hands.
“I know. It’s strange, really. The more I think about it, the less I feel; excited or scared or anything. I don’t know how to describe it. I guess I’ve just waited so long, worked so hard… But I’m not nervous,” he smiled. “I know I’m meant to be here.”
“You are. You deserve this. Geez, Dickie, I’m so proud of you.”
Jason pulled him in for a hug, cradling Dick’s head against his chest like he could protect him from the whole world that way. Jason didn’t tend to be the most touchy-feely person, letting others take the lead on making contact to hide how much he needed it, and so Dick cherished the moment for what it was; an open expression of Jason’s desire to hold his baby brother, to be comforted by him, to just enjoy that they could have this moment together. For that moment they could be each other’s world.
They were soon interrupted by a heavily pregnant student nurse who valiantly got down on her knees and declined Dick’s offer to put the compression tights on himself. Dick chattered Jason’s praises all the while and laughed as he blushed under the nurse’s approving eye. Dick rinsed his deodorant off and the nurse helped him figure out the ties on his scrubs, then gave Dick his meal form and confirmed he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since midnight.
“I’ll be here all evening, so I’ll see you after you’ve left theatre,” she assured him, as the surgeon knocked and poked his head through the door. “I’ll leave you in Dr Lam’s capable hands for now.”
Dick had met his surgeon thrice before, including a final follow-up just a week before his surgery date, and Dr Lam was just as calm and pleasant as always. He greeted Jason with a handshake and kept the small talk to a bare minimum - Dick once more expressed his delight in Jason flying in for his surgery, Dr Lam agreed upon the importance of a strong support system, and then they moved right to business.
“I’ll need you to undress for this part, would you like Jason to wait outside for this ?”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t think he’s seen how hairy my chest is these days,” Dick laughed, and so Jason stayed.
Dr Lam helped Dick untie the top half of his scrubs to mark up his torso with a sharpie, measuring the distance between his collarbones, nipples, and the droop of each breast. He took photos before and after, then marked down his measurements and let Dick redress.
“Your left breast is much larger than the right; see here there’s several centimetres difference between the nipple height on each side,” he explained. “It shouldn’t be an issue, given that you’re fairly small-chested overall, but the further the nipple grafts move the more chance there is for rejection. I’ve never lost a nipple, but it’s something to be aware of.”
“I understand,” Dick nodded. “You know what you’re doing, I trust you. And I have Jason and my friends to help me avoid moving around too much while I’m healing.”
“Remind me, your adoptive father is… not in the picture ?”
“Oh, he’s in the picture,” Dick snorted, rolling his eyes. “Way off in the corner trying to melt into the shadows. He’s not actually my legal father, the situation is… complicated. He doesn’t need to be a part of this.”
“If that’s your decision. Your brother here seems perfectly capable, and you’re welcome to stick around as late as you’d like tonight, Jason. Visiting hours are flexible. Did you have any questions for me?”
“I did, actually,” Jason nodded, hands twisted nervously in his lap. “I’m just– well, I’m a little concerned. This is Dick’s first surgery, and it’s such a major one. I’ve had several surgeries, so I’m… I’m just worried. I’m sure he’s asked you all these things, but I just want to be sure of the process, I guess.”
“Of course, let me give you the rundown. We’re performing a bilateral subcutaneous mastectomy, with two nipple grafts, and Dick will be completely sedated and unconscious throughout the surgery. He’ll have a breathing tube inserted after he’s gone under, and it’ll be removed before he wakes up, but he may have a sore throat for a short while. You saw the incision marks under each breast, which will run under each armpit and end before they meet in the middle. He’ll have a drain tube on each side, and they’ll be removed about two weeks post-surgery. All breast tissue is removed, along with some fatty tissue, to give the most natural-looking result. Dick is fairly muscular underneath, so there will be some contour, and you can expect that to develop normally as he continues to develop muscle.”
“With the breast tissue, is there a chance of it reversing ? Growing back ?”
“No. It can be the case with some breast reductions, where the tissue grows back to its former size, but this procedure removes all breast tissue, so there’s nothing to grow back from. It’s completely irreversible.”
“Great. Okay, great. And how long will he be in there for, can I stay and wait ?”
“Well, he’ll be in theatre for about three hours, and then in recovery for an hour afterwards.”
“Can I see him in recovery ?”
“No,” Dr Lam smiled kindly. “There may be other patients in there. But he’ll have a nurse with him at all times, he won’t be alone or in distress. I’d recommend going to have some dinner, go for a drive, see the sights if you’re interested. I can give you a call after I’ve scrubbed out to let you know how it all went and give you a time frame to come back.”
“That would be great, I’d really appreciate it,” Jason nodded, and Dick watched some of the tension release in his shoulders. He had really been stressing about this, Dick realised, and something warm bubbled up in his chest. He cared so much. Dick was so lucky.
“You can go to my apartment,” Dick suggested. “Garth’s out tonight and Roy’s off doing his band thing, but Wally will be there, and Donna. You can meet Donna ! You’ll love her.”
“I’ll love a solid meal, too,” Jason snorted. He took Dr Lam’s chart to scrawl his mobile number on. “Thank you, sir. I’m sure you’ll take good care of him. Dickie– he’s, um. Well. He worked really hard for this. He’s our baby brother, you know ? He deserves to be happy.”
“Of course. I should go get prepped for surgery, was there anything else ?”
“Oh– yes. One more thing. Um, Dick gets dry skin, and with the breathing tube… he used to get cracked skin in the corners of his mouth a lot when he was little. Can he have some lanolin or something so he’s not uncomfortable ?”
“I’ll speak to the nurse, we can get something for that.”
Dick caught Jason’s eye at that, his heart ready to burst. Two years they’d been apart, and Jason hadn’t forgotten a single thing about him. Jason held his gaze for a moment, then blushed, staring down at his feet. Dick was the baby, it was true, but Jason had been the baby for years before Dick had come along. He knew what it felt like to feel looked out for by your older siblings, strong in ways you couldn’t comprehend. They were alike in so many ways.
Dr Lam thankfully left before Jason could start crying over it, and it wasn’t long before the theatre nurse came to collect Dick. She gave him plastic slippers for his compression socks and a cotton cap for his hair, and then Dick hugged Jason goodbye and faced down the corridor. This was it. This was where it all would happen.
***
Dick's memory from recovery to his room was a blur. He vaguely remembered waking up with two nurses beside him and having some sort of conversation, and then he was moving through the corridors. He didn't even remember if he'd been wheeled back to his room on a gurney or walked, or how he'd gotten back into his bed. But there he was, laying in bed with a drip in his arm, chest padded and bound and completely numb. A plastic drain bottle was nestled beside each hip, and his call button was resting in his lap.
The pregnant nurse from earlier - Dick just couldn't conjure up her name - waddled in and helped him drink some water, then disconnected his drip line to give him a moment to feel coherent before speaking.
"How are you feeling, honey ? Are you in any pain ?"
"I feel okay, actually," Dick mumbled, trying to keep his vowels under control. "Just a bit… tired."
"Of course, that's perfectly normal," she smiled. "Keep drinking your water, and your dinner will be here soon. You'll feel a bit better with some food in you. Let me get your pills ready now."
Dick had several pills to take; an antibiotic course, a stool softener, and a few painkillers, both over-the-counter and prescription. He wasn’t in any pain yet, so the nurse set aside a dose of oxycodone for him to take with dinner, and Dick drained half his water jug the moment he could lift it on his own.
“Is my brother here ? Where did Jason go ?”
“He’ll be here soon,” the nurse assured him. She took his blood pressure and heart rate, noted everything down on his chart, then locked his medicines back up in the cabinet and left him to rest.
Time continued to blur around him, each blink lasting minutes. Was he hungry, or thirsty ? Did he need to sit up and stretch, use the bathroom, go to sleep ? Dick couldn’t quite tell. He blinked again and there was a knock on his door. They checked his blood pressure again, then dinner was delivered, and suddenly he was ravenous. The overnight fast caught up with him incredibly quickly, and after a careful adjustment of his bed and a test of how much his arms could move, Dick began to dig in.
The food was fairly plain but delicious; roasted veggies, pumpkin soup, a side of bread and butter, and fruit salad for dessert. The cool glass of orange juice felt like heaven on his throat, which wasn’t particularly sore but definitely had a level of scratchiness that he was glad to see disappear. He still felt okay, but took his oxycodone with the juice to keep it that way. After a few slow, thoroughly chewed bites, there was yet another knock on his door, and Jason poked his head through.
“Hey, buddy, how’re you feeling ?”
“I feel good,” Dick smiled, gesturing down at his food. “This is really good ! My head was all scrambled but I feel it all coming back already.”
“Good, that’s good. Do you wanna, um. I can go let you eat if you want,” Jason said awkwardly, gesturing to the door. “You’re probably tired, I don’t wanna be–”
“I want you to stay,” Dick interrupted. “Sit down and tell me about college while I eat. You’re not going anywhere.”
Jason’s cheeks coloured, and reached out to place a hand on Dick’s curls. After a moment he stilled and seemed to realise what he was doing, and pulled his hand back, quickly moving to the chair beside Dick’s bed and carefully not looking Dick in the eyes.
College seemed like a good topic for him to ramble about, at least, and Dick couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he listened to Jason’s familiar, comforting voice. He was clearly having the time of his life, and it warmed Dick’s heart to hear.
He still remembered when he’d first come to Wayne manor a furious, grieving eight-year-old, and Jason had taken his hand with such confidence, a young boy in jeans and a hoodie amongst the opulence of Bruce’s pressed suit and old-money decor.
I understand your anger , he’d said, with all the confidence a stuttering twelve-year-old could muster. I’ve felt it too. Bruce and Damian do their best, but they’re not like us. They were raised different. So we’re going to stick together, and I’ll show you how to be like them, and how to stay like yourself at the same time. We’re going to be brothers for life.
Jason had never let Dick down. They’d fought over the years, certainly; Dick’s anger ran deeper than Jason’s, and it manifested differently, pushing him towards several painful blowups with his family. Jason had probably caught the worst of that. In those early years, Dick had struggled especially, swinging wildly between screaming anger and sobbing grief and beaming joy, but Jason understood. He snapped back when Dick was out of line and apologised when they both went too far, and though he rarely asked for one, he always accepted a hug and often hesitated to let go. They admired each other, and loved each other wildly, and each time they hurt one another and pulled the rubber band apart, they only snapped back harder and closer.
Brothers for life. Dick was so lucky.
He was about to start teasing Jason for speaking a little too fondly of his college roommate - a girl whom Dick had met years ago when she’d made friends with their sister and immediately made her way into the family fold - when a wave of nausea cut him off. He inhaled carefully through his nose while Jason continued to talk, trying to breathe his way through it as his forehead began to heat. His tongue weighed heavily in the back of his mouth. It was hard to take deep breaths, his breathing quickening uncontrollably, and when his mouth began to water Dick knew he wasn’t going to beat this one.
“Jason,” he broke in quickly, swallowing heavily against the force of nausea that speaking brought forth. “Can you get– I think– I’m gonna throw up. Oh, I’m definitely gonna throw up.”
There were sick bags in the room somewhere , Dick was certain he’d seen them, but his thoughts were too cloudy to even try tracking down the memory as Jason rushed around to find something, anything. He fumbled to press the call button for a nurse to come, but it was too late; as Jason rounded the bed to check the other side for a bin, he lurched forward and threw up all over his table. Jason reacted quickly and picked up the food tray, saving the last of Dick’s dinner, but couldn’t get himself out of the firing line in time. Dick crumpled, pain burning in his chest, shame heating his cheeks.
“Oh, Dickie, you poor thing.”
“Sorry,” Dick rasped, feeling the orange juice burning its way back through his throat. Tears tickled the corners of each eye. “Geez. Ow. Yuck.”
Moments too late, a nurse hurried in and saw it all. She called for backup as she dumped some paper towels over the sick to keep it from spilling any further, and grabbed a sick bag from atop the medicine cabinet directly across from the bed - Dick groaned, feeling silly for not having seen it at all. At least he had one now.
“Now is a good time to go to the bathroom if you need to,” the nurse joked, and gave the brothers a sympathetic smile. “You should be able to get up on your own, just take it slow and let us know if you need a hand - and take that sick bag with you. I’ll get these sheets changed.”
Jason still stood there holding the food tray, looking almost comical with a thoroughly bewildered look on his face. Dick gave him a sheepish smile and carefully shuffled his legs to the side of the bed. He could feel an ache all through his torso and a wobble in his legs, and when he leant forwards to slide to the floor, he found he couldn’t quite un-hunch his shoulders. The nurse gave him a little plastic bag to put his drain bottles in and he awkwardly shuffled towards the bathroom, drains in one hand, sick bag in the other.
It did feel good to use the bathroom and sit with his legs bent for a while, carefully rolling his shoulders one at a time and trying to sit up as straight as possible. Reaching the toilet paper proved a minor challenge, but he got through the process and managed to shuffle to the sink without incident. He rinsed out his mouth thoroughly, but couldn’t reach the toothpaste at the back corner of the counter. He’d have to ask Jason for help with that later.
By the time he shuffled back out, the sheets had been changed and the table replaced, and Jason hovered nervously beside him as he climbed back into bed and under the covers. He’d taken his vomity jacket off, the shirt beneath thankfully unsoiled.
“Maybe the orange juice wasn’t a good idea,” Dick laughed weakly.
“It could be the oxycodone too,” the nurse agreed, “or the both of them together. If you react badly to it again we can try a different painkiller. Do you want to have any more of your dinner, or is there something else I can get you ?”
“I’ll try to have some more of the veggies,” Dick nodded. They were plain and didn’t turn his stomach to think of. “I think I’ll switch to apple juice for tomorrow, though. Could I have some more bread and butter too, please ?”
The nurse agreed that it’d probably help settle his stomach, and brought him a fresh jug of water as well. She took his blood pressure and then left them again. Dick nibbled on a triangle of bread while Jason settled back in his chair, looking more frazzled than Dick felt.
“You should go get some rest,” Dick said gently, holding his hand up at Jason’s inevitable protest. “I’ll be fine, birdie, I’ve got everything I need and my call button just in case. They’ll call you if something happens, but nothing is going to happen. I’m gonna be up all night, anyway. They have to do observations every hour.”
“Okay,” Jason said. “Okay. I could do with a good night’s sleep, I guess.”
“There’ll be space for you, don’t worry. Garth does a beach sleepout thing when he’s opening the next morning, and Roy’s off doing some music thing. You can bring the others with you when you visit tomorrow !”
“I’ll do that,” Jason smiled, a rare openness in his eyes. “You try to rest, okay ? I, um. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hesitated a moment longer until Dick took pity and opened his arms first, hand at the back of Jason’s head to tuck his nose into Dick’s shoulder. He was tired, sore, and sick to his stomach, but his big brother supported him, met his closest friends, and loved him endlessly. Dick would be just fine.
***
“So here’s the bedroom, and the bathroom’s through there. If you need it in the night just walk right through, we don’t close the door. That’s, uh. Well, that’s it,” Wally shrugged.
Jason had not been sufficiently prepared for the state of Dick’s apartment. He’d mentioned that it was small, with just one bed and a pull-out sofa, but Jason hadn’t quite thought about the logistics of five teenagers living in such small quarters. The place was tiny.
There was indeed just one queen-sized bed in the bedroom, with two mismatched sets of drawers, a wardrobe, and a bedside table all crammed in around it. The bathroom counter was packed full of products, and they’d actually hung a plastic shelf in place of a shower caddy to house everyone’s shampoo and conditioner. In the kitchen, they’d managed to find five matching chairs that did not match their dining table, shoved up against the wall to save on space and completely covered in books and papers. There was barely space between the sofa bed and TV for a coffee table, but again the laws of physics were stretched to make things work. Wally explained that Dick and Roy had once spent the better part of an afternoon removing the lockable wheels from an office chair to put on the sofa, so it could be rolled backwards each night to make room to pull out the bed.
“It goes all the way to the door, which would probably be a fire hazard,” Wally laughed, “but that actually clears the egress for the fire escape, so it balances out in the end !”
“Right,” Jason said weakly, setting his bag down on the sofa. At least the place was clean; cluttered and somewhat untidy, but clean.
“Anyway, it’s just Donna and me tonight. Roy’s off doing some band thing I don’t care about, and Garth sleeps out on the beach when he’s opening tomorrow. His choice, I promise. He likes the sound of the ocean,” Wally said with a shrug. “Donna’s working closes this week but she usually carpools back, so she should be here soon. I gotta get some homework done, so if you need me, give me a shout. There’s pop and stuff in the fridge, help yourself.”
The redhead gave Jason a lazy salute and sat himself down at the dining table, head well and truly buried in his notes by the time the door opened. An unreasonably pretty girl stepped through, pulling her long dark hair from its ponytail as she hung her bag by the door.
“Donna Troy,” she smiled, holding a steady hand out for Jason to shake. “Dick’s number one best friend.”
“Objection,” Wally called, not lifting his head from his textbook.
“Overruled. I’m sure Dick’s mentioned me,” Donna winked. “How’s the little guy doing ?”
“He did. He said I’d like you,” Jason said. “I can see why.”
“Dick and I are soulmates,” Donna shrugged, and sat beside Jason on the sofa. “We’ve just known each other forever. I know you’re as proud of him as I am.”
“Roy calls them the wonder twins,” Wally chimed in, grinning over his shoulder. “Not just for their looks.”
“He’s in good hands, Jason, I promise. Dick said you’re a worry wart, I can already see it; you need to relax. He works too hard and takes too much on his plate, we all see that, but for once he’s doing something solely for himself. He needed his big brother there to support him, and you came. That’s all he needs right now. So just try to relax, okay ? Play some games, get some sleep. We can all cry over him tomorrow.”
Jason laughed at that, surprising himself with the honesty in the sound. Donna did remind him of Dick; she was clearly passionate, with an undercurrent of intensity in her words, but she was cheeky, too. She smiled like he did, with sparkling eyes and freely offered warmth. Jason wondered if she was as closed off as Dick was on the inside, as private, as quietly hurting.
She was easy to talk to and shared Dick’s talent for carrying a conversation when Jason fell short. Their chatter provided a comfortable background for Wally to work through, and he eventually joined them for a few rounds of Mario Kart before Jason had to invoke his seniority and send them all to bed.
They helped him set up the sofa bed - Jason still couldn’t believe they actively chose to do this every night - and Jason was left to stare up at the popcorn ceiling in silence; at least, until Wally’s snores started up. He laughed under his breath, turning over to press one ear into his pillow, and closed his eyes. There was worry in his gut and an unrelenting tension in his shoulders, but the day had been long, and he soon drifted into dreams.
***
Jason slept surprisingly well, given his earlier anxiety. He woke with anticipation, rather than fear - at least, after triple checking his phone for urgent messages sent through the night. Dick had texted to say that his surgeon had dropped by and advised him to stay another night in the hospital, that he’d explain everything when Jason arrived, and to please not panic, everything is fine. So far Jason was successful in keeping calm and trusting Dick to be honest, for once, about his condition.
Donna and Wally made a beeline for the hospital cafe when they arrived, quietly giving Jason some time to check in on Dick alone. They really were good kids; Dick had a habit of making questionable friends, but he seemed to have hit the jackpot with these two. Jason had no doubts that they’d take good care of his baby brother.
Dick was perfectly okay in the end, and Jason felt the invisible tension unravel from his shoulders. He’d suffered an internal bleed on one side - Dick held up his drain bottles to show Jason how much more full one was - but thankfully it seemed to have drained completely.
“The surgeon said I’d normally have to go back to theatre for a bleed like this,” Dick explained, tucking his drain bottles back into the blanket. “But it all drained instead of getting clogged in the tube, so it’s all good. He just wants me to stay an extra night for observation, to be completely sure. I threw up again, too, so it might’ve been because of that.”
“Aw, Dickie… are you feeling okay now ?”
“I’m okay ! They changed up my painkiller and gave me an anti-nausea thing, and I didn’t get sick from it. I threw up in the sink that time too, so it wasn’t as bad.”
“Jeez. Okay. That’s good, I guess,” Jason snorted, patting his jacket pockets as they began to buzz. “Hold on– it’s my, um, roommate. Your friends are at the cafe, do you mind if I–?”
Dick waved him on with a cheeky grin, looking like he knew way too much for his own good. Jason almost wanted to argue, but Donna and Wally showed up just at the right moment, so he ducked out to the lobby to take his call and let them catch up.
When Jason returned from his phone call, the remaining two of Dick’s friends had made their appearance; a striking boy with dark curly hair to his chin, wearing what looked like swim trunks and a sleeveless zip-up rash vest, showing off swirling tattoos around each arm, and another freckled ginger boy, this one even cheekier looking than the first. It was hard to be certain under his jean jacket, but Jason was pretty sure the redhead’s shirt read ‘SLUT’. Garth and Roy, if he remembered Dick’s descriptions correctly.
Roy was very slowly handing a paper gift bag to Dick, who reached inside and removed a small plush rabbit. It was cute. The air seemed charged for a moment, the kids all looking at Dick like they were waiting for something. He paused for dramatic effect, then shook the rabbit. It rattled.
A passing nurse was startled into dropping his clipboard by the sudden volume that exploded from the room.
“Okay,” Jason interrupted, cutting through the teens’ laughter. “Okay, I’ll bite, what’s with the rattle ?”
“We actually don’t have to tell this story,” Donna said quickly, trying and failing to muffle a squeal when Wally grabbed at her waist.
“No, we do,” Roy laughed. “We do– hey, don’t bite me–”
“It all started two years ago,” Garth said ominously, and Donna flopped down into the chair as he vacated it, admitting defeat.
“A few months after I’d arrived here,” Dick said softly, for Jason’s benefit.
“We were all living together, right ? The high life.”
“No money, no prospects, no jobs –”
“Pretty much the same as now then, right ?”
“Hey, some of us are employed, twinkle-toes !”
“College counts as employment, especially a masters –”
“ Anyway, ” Garth raised his voice above the rabble. “Dear Richard was in the habit of forgetting his keys at home– a habit he’s yet to shake. So he’d climb up the fire escape and break in through the window, right ?”
“Except, as mentioned, we’re a bunch of unemployed, cut-off kids,” Wally chimed in, “so the fire escape isn’t exactly the pinnacle of engineering.”
“And Dickie-boy’s made this journey enough times that our poor, illegally un-maintained fire escape is feeling the strain.”
“And he’s drunk.”
“And it’s three in the morning.”
“And we’re all home, so he could’ve just come through the front door.”
“But no, instead we’re all awoken in the wee hours by the delightful sound of little Dickie falling his way down three flights of rusty stairs and into the recycling pile below.”
Dick had the gall to shrug coyly at this, and Jason couldn’t hold back a snort. That was his baby brother alright.
“I fractured my ankle. Four weeks in a cast.”
“And a night in the inpatient ward for concussion watch,” Garth added with a grin. “So of course our beloved Donna drops by to pay him a visit before he can discharge.”
“And swings by the gift shop on her way up.”
“Because what could help sweet Dickie heal better than a nice soft sheep ?”
“A pink one. With eyelashes. Just lovely.”
“And she made it all the way up to my room before I picked it up and it rattled,” Dick beamed, showing absolutely no remorse at Donna’s groan. “It was a baby toy, she had no idea. I still have it."
“So now they all torture me with rattle toys every time someone’s sick or injured,” Donna sighed. She pulled Wally into her lap with a yelp, grumpily poking at his side. “We have a whole shelf of them.”
“I think they’re charming,” Roy teased, and Wally promptly found himself in between a sudden death match.
Jason turned back to Dick and found his breath catching mid-laugh, captivated by the look on his brother’s face. His fingers curled around the plush rabbit in his lap, trying to keep from laughing too hard and aggravating his stitches, but the look on his face was one of pure joy. Though she was still swiping at Roy with one hand, Donna had curled the other around Dick’s. While Dick watched Roy make a show of dodging each attack and trying to land his own hits, Wally smiled at Dick, freckled cheeks flushed high into his orange hairline. Garth stayed out of the fray, one hand resting on Dick’s head, fingertips skritching his scalp in slow motion.
He’d found his people. It broke Jason’s heart, in many ways, realising that Dick’s place was so cemented here, so far from the home he grew up in and the family he’d left behind. He’d allow himself that sadness. But in the same breath, he was happy; happy to see his little brother, who had been so troubled and angry and misplaced, smiling and laughing freely. There was less weight on his shoulders here, and Dick was better for it.
“I should probably get going. I have a shift,” Donna said eventually, once the rambunctiousness had settled to a dull roar. “Aw. Someone’s sleepy.”
“You guys bored me,” Dick yawned.
He rubbed at his eyes and then held his arms out for her, smiling tiredly. The whole lot of them descended on Dick in a group hug that was honestly adorable, though Jason would never admit it out loud. Dick pulled each friend down by the shoulders to plant a kiss on their foreheads before they left, with a big wet smack each time, and Jason was beginning to wonder if that Wally kid had feelings for his brother or if his complexion just lent to him being red all the time.
Jason felt better about leaving this time. Dick was halfway asleep by the time they said their goodbyes, so Jason tucked him in, promised to be back again in an hour, and left to take the other kids where they needed to go.
He returned to find Dick finishing up his lunch and helped him polish off the last of his custard. A nurse had brought a tub of warm water with a moisturising body wash mixed in for Dick to have a sponge bath, and after Jason helped him wash his back and put his dressing gown on, they decided to go for a wander around the wards. The nurses said it was good for him to stretch his legs, and Jason watched with morbid fascination as his usually sprightly and energetic brother shuffled along the carpet like an old man.
Dick’s posture was already improving by the time he tapped out, and Jason helped him tuck back into the warmth of his covers and adjust the bed to keep him upright.
“Dick, I wanted to ask you something,” Jason ventured, opting to stand at the end of the bed rather than sitting back down. “You’re not… you haven’t left us forever, right ? You’ll come home one day ?”
“Jason, I–”
“I mean it, Dickie. I know Gotham’s not home for you the same way it is for the rest of us, but we’re your family. There’s gotta be some kind of home you’re missing.”
“I do miss you,” Dick said earnestly. “I miss you all, even Bruce. Some days more than others. But I have a life out here now, friends, a job. I’m different out here.”
“You can be different back home, too,” Jason pointed out. “You’re still Dick, even if you’ve grown up a bit. How could you leave us all like that, not even knowing where you were ? We’re not all total psychos, you know. Two years is a hell of a long time to keep this from us.”
Dick looked strangely uncomfortable at that, staring down at his hands in his lap like he didn’t want to look Jason in the eye. Like he didn’t want to be seen. Jason frowned.
“So someone did know. Who did you tell, huh ? Who was worthy of your secret and screwed enough in the head to keep it–” Jason cut himself off with a scoff, arms folded tightly across his chest. “Damian. That motherfucker.”
“I was seventeen. I needed an emergency contact, birdie, I wouldn’t have told anyone if I didn’t have to,” Dick protested. “I had to choose someone– look, this isn’t about you , you know. It was about me and Bruce. I’m sorry the rest of you got caught in the fallout but it’s not my fault you attached yourself to his hip.”
“Oh, that’s rich. Like you and Damian weren’t thick as thieves just as much as I was with Bruce.”
“It was different with us,” Dick shouted, and Jason was suddenly glad they’d shut the door behind them. “It was different and you know it. Same as it was different between you and me; we understood each other on a deeper level. Or I thought we did. But maybe all you care about in relationships is what you can get in return, just like him .”
Jason’s jaw shut with a click, teeth grinding together as he forced his silence. This was not the place for a screaming match, and the set of Dick’s brows told him they were quickly headed for one. He turned on his heel, picked his jacket up from where it lay over the chair, and moved to put his hand on the door handle.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Text me if anything happens,” he muttered, just loud enough to be sure that Dick heard. He twisted the door handle and took a step through before pausing, unable to look back. “I still love you. I do. That will always be unconditional.”
At least this time Dick would be able to sleep through the night.
***
When Dick jerked awake in the dark, he knew something was wrong. He’d slid down in his sleep, with his legs slightly elevated by the bed, and was hunched over a little more than was comfortable. He shifted slightly, trying to reach for the bed controls, and a searing pain lanced through his left side. He choked down a gasp, suddenly afraid of any movement.
Had something happened ? Was he bleeding ? Were his stitches torn ? Dick swallowed carefully, fearing the dryness in his throat would prompt him to cough. That was the last thing he needed. Suddenly he was keenly aware of every movement, the ache in his knees, the tension across his shoulders. A shiver ran down Dick’s spine. He had to move. He had to move now. In three, two, one–
“Ow !”
His voice was only a low hiss, but the pain was crippling, trapping Dick’s breath in his throat for a terrifying moment. He tried to lift his arm from the elbow, but the moment his skin pulled just a little, the pain flared back up. It felt somewhat localised to where the drain entered his skin on that side, and Dick’s other hand fluttered over the bindings, reluctant to touch. He couldn’t quite reach the call button with that hand, and trying to reach across his body to help his stuck hand only pulled another pained whimper from his throat. He was trapped here. Trapped, trapped, trapped.
It was just his luck he wasn’t hooked up to any heart or pulse monitors, Dick thought wryly. His heart beat an uneven tattoo behind his collarbones, threatening to rise into his throat and suffocate him as he tried to force his breathing to slow down.
He didn’t want to shout; people were sleeping in the other rooms, people surely with worse aches and pains than this, and the nurse’s station was several rooms away. The chances of someone wandering past and hearing him were slim to none, and he’d more likely disturb some other poor patient. He couldn’t reach the call button. Think, think. Beside him was the bed handle, turned on a diagonal away from him, with the call button hooked over it just out of reach. Next to it hung the tilt controls for the bed, just slightly closer to his right hand when he bent it all the way back. Okay. Plan.
Dick would swear it took him twenty minutes. It was too dark to see the clock, or he’d have surely timed himself. He eased the control off the handle, flinching and wincing when it hit the bed. Then began the agonising game of back and forth, up and down, hinge and unhinge, as he desperately tried to manoeuvre himself into an upright position. If he folded himself near in half, Dick found he could very, very carefully scooch himself backwards in the bed, and as he directed the bed to flatten back out, his posture improved minutely each time.
It was agony.
He just wanted to stretch, to reach his arms up and pull the pain out like an overworked muscle that just needed to be bullied back to softness, but as the initial blinding pain receded he could feel the drain, feel it tugging and pulling like its teeth were buried in his ribs and dying to dig deeper. When he closed his eyes he saw his incisions peeling open, the drain snaking up under his skin and pushing through the other side. He didn’t even know what they looked like under the padded bindings, but his mind conjured the image clearer and clearer, bloodier and more painful, until he was just so absolutely sick of it that he laid right hand over left rib and firmly pressed down.
The relief was instantaneous. The pain was still there, the spread-eagle ache fanning out from the plastic tubing, but the harshest edge of it all but disappeared under the pressure. Something was beginning to build under the feeling, and Dick knew he couldn’t keep pressing down on it indefinitely, but it was the break in the storm he needed. With a little more manoeuvring of the bed and a lot of careful pressing, Dick finally sank into the most comfortable position he could manage. He reached up and pressed the button for the nurse, and let exhaustion overtake him as he waited, eyes half-lidded and brimming with tears.
The kind older nurse knocked before entering, and gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Hi, Richard. What’s the matter ?”
“My side really hurts,” Dick whispered, fighting to keep the whine from his tone. He didn’t want to cry. “On my left, right here. I think it’s where the drain is. I can’t– I can’t move my arm on that side.”
“I can give you some more painkillers, how about that ? The doctor said he’d come to visit you again tomorrow, didn’t he ? He’ll be able to check it all for you, make sure everything’s alright under there.”
“Okay,” Dick said weakly. “I just… it really hurts.”
“I’m sure it does,” she said, giving a sympathetic smile. “Your brother will be back tomorrow, won’t he ? If everything’s looking okay you can have a little wash, too. Just try to sit with your shoulders back as much as you can and keep holding on, okay ?”
After double-checking that he didn’t want to try the oxycodone again - a flash of horror spiked through Dick’s gut at the thought of vomiting with this pain in his side and dislodging everything - she gave him some more tramadol. The bed tray was on his left side, so he needed help to get his water, but even just having something nice and cool to sip helped calm him down.
The exhaustion hit again, and Dick closed his eyes, letting sleep rush up and overtake him. Fear could wait for the morning. For now, he would rest.
***
“I feel really good, actually,” Dick smiled. “Just a bit sore, I guess, but nothing as bad as last night. I’m kinda surprised at how good I feel, to be honest, I was expecting… I don’t even know. Everyone warned me about mood swings and all sorts of things but I feel so normal.”
Dick had been discharged after his extra night in hospital, to ensure the bleed wasn’t going to re-open and cause any complications. He’d seen the doctor once more to okay his discharge and make sure the pain had subsided, and then the nurses showed him how to change his drain bottles and give him a laundry list of prescriptions and medication schedules. To celebrate properly, Jason drove him to a little hole-in-the-wall pancake kitchen for brunch.
“I don’t know if normal really describes you,” Jason snorted, reaching for his coffee. “That’s good, though. I remember waking up from some of my surgeries feeling worse than I went in. How many times did you throw up ?”
“Just twice. They switched my painkiller after that, though. Seemed to fix the issue.”
“You’re a total freak of nature, I swear. Who has their first surgery be a major surgery, on the torso, and just be almost completely fine ? Where the hell did Bruce find you,” Jason teased. Dick’s gaze dropped to his plate.
“I will come home, you know. I didn’t mean to leave forever.”
“I know that, Dickie,” Jason sighed, pressing a hand over his eyes. “I didn’t mean– look, I’m sorry for getting angry. I was pretty pissed, don’t get me wrong, but… I get why you left. I just wish you didn’t have to cut us all off completely.”
“No, you’re right to be mad,” Dick said softly. “I kinda thought a clean break would be easier, I guess. For all of us. And then I was so busy moving in, and getting a job, and… well, Damian’s never been good with communication, and he was the only one who kinda knew. I kinda used him as an excuse for not telling anyone else. Like… you wouldn’t care, or something.”
“Of course we cared, Dick, what the fuck. You were seventeen years old. Bruce was beside himself, it reminded him of m– of when I– i-it just sucked, okay ? We had no way to know if you were safe, and it fucking sucked for all of us.”
“It hurt me too.” Dick reached across the table then and took Jason’s hands, those big blue eyes meeting his brother’s with pure sincerity. “I didn’t realise how much I needed you until you came. I’m not going to leave you again, birdie, I promise. This isn’t– I’m not just using you. I just needed to figure out how I could come home.”
“Dickie…”
“I’m coming home,” Dick promised, smiling through his tears. He let one of Jason’s hands go to press his knuckles to his lips, hiding the wobble. “Just give me a few months to recover from all this, okay ? And make some more money. LA is expensive, you know.”
“Okay mister west coast,” Jason laughed, cutting himself off with a sniffle. “You can stay with me, if you want. My roommate– uh, well. We have a spare bed now.”
“Ooohh, I’m welcome in the lover’s den,” Dick teased, but now he was laughing too. “Okay. I think Damian still gets first dibs, but I promise you’re next on the list. I’ll work some baby magic and get everyone together for lunch, okay ? I’ll explain everything.”
“Good. That’s good,” Jason nodded. “None of us are angry anymore. We just want to be in your life.”
“Thank you. Thank you for being here, Jason. Thank you for being my brother.”
“For you, Dickie ? Anything.”