Chapter Text
It hits him out of nowhere, sometimes. The thought that he didn’t belong, the thought that he was surrounded by people who have done nothing but good while his hands would always drip with blood.
It hits him out of nowhere sometimes. That his blood bleeds black, that his eyes glow gold, that he doesn’t need to eat so often anymore, that he doesn’t need to sleep much. His torn skin mends itself, his heart grows back in minutes. He is dead, and the darkness of death never lingers long.
Dick is unlike anyone else around him, and he is always reminded of this at the strangest times.
When Wally is eating his tenth cookie and M’gann offers one to Dick – Dick is reminded that people, especially Wally, must eat regularly to continue surviving. That they find the act soothing, that they enjoy it, enjoy the taste and the texture. When M’gann or even Kaldur fall asleep on the couch during a lazy day, Dick is reminded that people enjoy the darkness that is slumber. That people do not find the act suffocating.
Dick is still unsure of what he must do around people. Sometimes he is unsure of what to say, how to act, if he’s staring too much or if he’s not looking enough. Sometimes the Team can be too much – too loud, too kind, too much.
He thinks Superboy understands. Dick remembered the day they freed him just as though it was yesterday, though it’s been quite some time now. Superboy had been a puppet, just as Dick had been, and all Dick can remember thinking was I need to save him.
Superboy was angry where Dick had been scared. Superboy was loud and wanted to be heard where Dick had been timid, wanting to hide in the shadows. Their experiences were vastly different, but all the same, Dick understood. He understood not feeling like he fit in, like he could never fit in all the dozens of boxes society had made.
Superboy is a clone; he is neither Kryptonian nor human.
Dick is a Talon; he is neither dead nor alive.
After yet another mission that went, well, off track, Dick noticed how Superboy stormed off in the direction of the training rooms. Dick waved the team off once the briefing was over and made a beeline for where Superboy ran off to.
“What?” Superboy snapped upon seeing him, and Dick raised his hands in a placating manner.
“I just wanted to talk,” Dick said carefully, resisting the urge to fidget. “It’s just!” He started when Superboy started to scowl. “It’s just, I get it.”
“You get what?” Superboy said, confusion easing his features.
Dick stalked further into the room, sitting down on one of the benches near the entrance. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words, wasn’t sure how to explain just how they were similar – that Superboy wasn’t alone, that Dick understood, he could be a confidant, if he wanted – without giving everything away. Dick wasn’t ready to tell someone the entire story – not even B knew everything – or even the truth of what he is.
But Dick remembers wanting nothing more than for someone to really understand. So, for Superboy, Dick will try.
“I’m not human,” Dick admitted, hesitant. He wanted to continue, but the words got stuck in his throat. They always did when talking of the Court and what they did to him.
“What?” Superboy asked, frowning further. “I thought…you and Batman were regular humans?”
“Batman is.” Dick said quickly. “But I’m not human. I’m not a meta either, o-or an alien.”
Superboy turned to face him completely, frowning at him. “Are you a clone?” there’s an undertone of are you like me?
“No.” Dick said. “I’m not like anyone.” He awkwardly rubbed his hands against his thighs. “So, I. I get it. Not fitting in, not understanding everything, being angry. I just wanted you to know that you could talk to me – that I’d, uh, get it.”
“How would you get it?” Superboy asked, and he sounded resigned more than anything. “You’re a different species. Whatever. I was created to be a weapon. I’m the clone of Superman, and he doesn’t want anything to do with me! You don’t have to deal with any of that…”
Dick smiled sadly. “I was created to be a weapon too. I was a weapon, until B saved me.” he looked at his hands, could almost see the blood dripping from his fingertips. “I know…B always tells me it’s not my fault. But I know it bothers him too. The things I did.”
When he looked up, Superboy was staring at him with a thoughtful, searching look. Slowly he moved to sit next to him.
“What were you created for?” he asked.
“I was created to kill Batman.” Dick said.
Superboy grinned at him. It held nothing but pain. Dick smiled back and it felt sick on his face.
“I guess we have more in common than I thought.” Superboy said quietly.
Dick leaned back and brought his arms around his knees. “You want to punch something?”
“Definitely.” Superboy said and stood up. “You coming?”
Dick grinned and bounced over to the punching bags.
Robin and Superboy have been spending a lot of time together. Wally knows he’s not the only one to notice it – Artemis made a comment about it the other day in passing. Usually, whenever the Team is over, Superboy will eventually storm off for a few minutes before coming back, and the Team has all gotten used to it. Whatever made the guy happy, right?
But now, Robin usually trails after him and then they’re gone for what feels like hours. They talk after missions and Robin’s even invited Superboy out to the movies on the weekends with them!
Of course, Rob can have friends. And it’s nice to have Superboy being more involved with the Team, but the weekends used to just be Dick and Wally’s (and Roy, when he had actually been around, he thinks bitterly) thing. It’s where they could wander around without having to worry about keeping Dick’s secret identity, and he wears sunglasses, so the press doesn’t find them instead of hiding his identity from Wally. It’s where they could joke and complain and just not have to worry about anything.
But now the weekends are Robin, Wally, and Superboy’s thing.
Wally can’t shake the feeling that there is something he is missing. That Superboy knows something that Wally doesn’t – that Dick connects with Superboy more than he does with his best friend. It makes something ugly rear its head and tie his stomach into knots.
Wally glances over to where Superboy and Robin were sparring, Robin’s cape fluttering with his quick movements as he jabbed at Superboy in quick succession. Normally, this would be the point where Superboy got up from the floor, scowled angrily, and then sulked for the rest of the training session, but all he did was accept Robin’s gloved hand and start another spar.
“Kid Idiot, focus, damnit!” Artemis snapped and Wally jerked away from her fist, using his speed to dodge fully and retaliate.
The ugly feeling was back, and Wally realized he was jealous. Robin could have other friends. He should have other friends! Wally knows Robin didn’t consider many people as friends, knows that the people at his school were held at a distance out of fear. And after Roy started to pull away, Robin’s lost one of his best friends, even if they did their best to keep in touch.
Wally should be happy for his friend. He should be happy that he’s somehow managed to bond with Superboy to the point where they actively search each other out just to spend time in silence together. He should be happy, but all he felt was envy and he hated himself for it.
Superboy – wait, no, he was Conner Kent now. Conner didn’t really get along with people. M’gann tried to understand him, and he really did appreciate it. The rest of the Team were special to him, too. But no one really got along with him the way Robin managed to.
Robin was like him. Maybe that’s why they got along so nicely. Conner understood not being in control of your own life, he understood having days where he just couldn’t be around other people, he understood feeling like all he would be good for was the purpose he was created for – even if said purpose was something he despised.
Conner understood Robin and Robin understood him. They were friends.
Robin usually knew how to calm him down during bad days and would listen to him complain and fight him when he needed to blow off some steam. Robin was quick witted and fast on his feet and Superboy has yet to beat him in a spar, but it never aggravated him. Robin was his friend, but even more than that, he understood.
But, even with all the times Robin has helped him, Conner has never really helped Robin. Robin seemed to have himself all put together, even if some days his voice was quieter, and he seemed to slink in the background happily. But he never seemed like what he is, really affected him. Not in the way it affected Conner.
That is why Conner is surprised when Robin knocks on his door in the middle of what the Team called their monthly movie night. Conner hadn’t felt up to joining this month’s film, retreating to his room early on. Robin stands there in Wally’s sweatshirt, and his sunglasses are still firmly in place, but his lips pressed together in a thin line, and there were trembles running through his entire body subtly. Conner can see gold glowing dimly behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses.
Robin sat on his bed. They just sit there for a few long moments and Conner doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure what to say, really, but he knows Robin likes having someone present – it’s easy with the way he always surrounds himself with someone when he has the chance to; be it their clothing (mostly Wally, though Conner suspects some of his shirts come from Red Arrow) or by pressing against them (also mostly with Wally). So, Conner sits and he waits.
Robin tapped his fingertips against his thighs, an erratic motion that seems to soothe him somewhat. He lets out what can only be described as a trill and then grimaces, a look of panic (which Conner has never seen on Robin before) crossing his features. His taps grew faster.
Suddenly, Robin’s heartbeat stopped echoing in his ears. Conner inhales sharply, jerking up and Robin jerks back, looking up at him with wide eyes. He’s alive, paling rapidly and black veins can be seen appearing at his neck, and his heart is still not beating but he’s somehow alive.
“What…” Conner muttered, blinking rapidly.
Robin sinks in on himself. He sucks in a breath, coughs, and then breathes quickly, shakily. His heart sluggishly starts to beat again, and color starts to reappear on his face.
“I – sorry, sorry,” Robin rambles, “I’m sorry,”
“It’s okay,” Conner said, hesitant. He wasn’t really sure what he should do in this situation, but he knows that his friend needed him. Robin has helped him for months, and now he’s come to Conner for help. “Do you, uh…want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” Robin mutters. If Conner didn’t have super hearing, he probably wouldn’t have heard him. He flexes his hands before looking over to Conner. He looks uncharacteristically hesitant as he asks, “Can I get a hug?”
Conner awkwardly wrapped his arms around Robin. Robin didn’t hug back, but he leant into the embrace as much as he can and let out a shaky breath.
“I was created by the Court.” He said softly, “Batman took them down a few years ago. Or at least we thought he did.”
Oh. Conner gets it, now.
“They’re back?” he asked, just as quiet.
Robin shook as he nodded his head. “I’m so tired,” he said into Conner’s shoulder. “I never thought…I never thought they’d come back.”
And then, he cried. He buried his face deeper into Conner’s shoulder, gripped onto his back, and his body wracked with sobs. He’s visibly gasping for breath and clutching at his shirt, but he’s silent. There are no sounds that leave him as Conner’s shirt grows wet with his tears.
For some reason, the silence of it is what hurt Conner the most.
He hugged Robin tighter, wondering what could have conspired while the movie the Team was watching went on. Did Batman contact Robin? Inform him of the return of this Court? Did Robin see something? Hear something?
Why had Robin come to him instead of Wally? Conner would have to be blind to not see the bond those two had. Why hadn’t Robin gotten comfort from Wally, who had been right next to him?
Doesn’t matter, Conner dismissed quickly. Robin was all that mattered in this moment.
Green Arrow showed up just a few minutes later. He’s out of breath and his eyes are wide when he sees Robin, and then his face just…crumpled. Robin tears away from Conner, turning to Green Arrow with his arms reaching out, and the hero is quick to take him into his arms.
“Thanks, Superboy.” Green Arrow said earnestly. He held Robin close, shushes him soothingly, and then says, “Batman sent me to get you. I’ll call Roy, and we can have a movie night, yeah?”
Robin taps something into Green Arrow’s shoulder as they make their way out of the room. Arrow’s face tightens. “Batman is perfectly fine. He wants you as far away from Gotham as he can, right now. For once, I agree with him.”
Robin makes another bird-like sound, Arrow grimaced, and then the door closes as he marches out. Conner can hear him say, “We want you as far away from the Court as possible, buddy. Please just let us do this.”
Conner wonders why Green Arrow had lied about Batman being fine.