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Dick kept his eyes closed, forcibly breathing in and out through the chilled air and the icy pinpricks of rain as they raced to break through his numb state. He crossed his hands over his damp stomach, his fingertips just beginning to turn purple. Even so, he refused to move even an inch.
Not even when the sound of a grappling gun ripped through the soft storm like thunder.
Dick's lips didn't tremble as he spoke. "I'm fine."
"Chum." B's voice was softer than normal, almost hiding beneath the rain, and even still, Dick didn't open his eyes. He watched the red and purple spots dance behind his eyelids as heaven's tear drops dripped down the side of his face.
"B." Dick returned calmly.
Too calmly.
(To be honest, it wasn't even calm - not the calm that so many chased after. It wasn't a peaceful moment after a long rest or a tranquil morn with the scent of Earl Grey wafting in the air after brunch.)
(It was a commercial with paid actors smiling and lying through their teeth for a paycheck that wouldn't even cover rent. It was a scam made of stillness locked in place, because there was a weight holding down his hips and a hand on his chest and rain in his eyes -)
Boots crunched on the ground, and the familiar weight of Batman's cape grazed Dick's arm. Dick couldn't help finally opening his eyes to stare at the other man in incredulity.
Because the Batman had laid down on the dirty, wet rooftop beside him.
"B -" Dick choked out, surprised at his own voice cracking.
"I'm fine, too." Batman stated. "We're fine. Together."
Dick swallowed, eyes burning for a moment before turning his gaze upwards. He wanted the sky to be dark with sparkling stars drifting every so often out from behind storm clouds, but he wasn't that lucky. It looked like pure, swirling darkness with just enough rain to blur the world around him.
It looked exactly like it had then.
Dick's hands clenched into fists.
"It's not fair." Dick whispered.
For a moment, he thought his words had been swallowed up by Bludhaven's gluttonous winds, the maws of the city opening wide to swallow him whole, but then, Batman said softly. "No."
I said no. Dick thought absently, not even a pang in his chest. I think I said no. I said no.
"I read that it helps." Dick said. "It was a cooking blog, so maybe I should have ignored it, but I just thought - that sounds nice. It said to lay down beneath the rain and let it wash off all the bad, and I thought - I thought it sounded nice."
"Is it?"
"Nice?" Dick asked.
Dick looked over at his mentor - the older man was laying there, his eyes clearly closed as rain ran in rivers down his chin and across Kevlar. It was strange seeing the man so open yet so blank.
Before Batman, Dick hadn't known Bruce beyond knowing that he was the man's chosen charity case. He remembered smiling to the billionaire's face as he'd been ushered into the manor all the while planning his big escape, his moment of truth - Zucco's moment of truth.
That was the last time he could remember that look on his face - open yet nothing there. It was like he was a blank canvas.
Eventually, Dick had written all over it. Partner. Teacher. Mentor. Friend. Brother. Father.
Then they'd smeared the words with yells and cries and anger that cut to the quick. Dick didn't know what they were anymore, but he knew that the man next to him was someone who'd lay down in the rain with him.
"Well?" Batman asked. "Is it nice?"
Dick let out a slow breath, blinking as a raindrop splashed against his lip. It tasted too bitter for rain - like pollution or acid. "I wish it was."
Bruce grunted, but it wasn't the kind that made Dick's eye twitch, his anger rachet up. It was gentler - confirmation, agreement. An invitation.
"Maybe it comes in waves." Dick said softly to the sky. "Being nice. Sometimes, it's - it's nice. It's just rain, and it's nice. Other times, it's not, but you can't leave, because you don't have an umbrella, and you're wet, and if you go inside, you'll just track the water in or worse. You could make someone else cold and wet, and that - that's not fair when all you wanted was for it to be . . . to be nice."
Dick bit his lip, sudden shame swallowing him. He felt stupid. He felt like a child. His entire chest was tight, and dampness was sinking past his jacket, his shirt, into his skin and his heart, and soon enough, he'd have to wring the water out of his soul -
"It's okay to get other people wet sometimes." Batman said softly. "Sometimes, the people who love you would rather be wet with you than dry alone."
Dick's eyes began to sting, but he swallowed it down enough to ask "But is it fair to them?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." Batman said hesitantly, clearly out of his depth, but he pushed on. "But it would be nice."
There was a long silence, more rain coming down. Dick squeezed his hands together, ignoring the purpling as it worsened at the ends of his fingers as he finally spoke. "I used to the love the rain. Then there was a woman, and - and I no longer loved the rain."
Batman hummed, and Dick swallowed. He didn't expect a response, but finally, Batman said "I used to love a woman, and then there was a night. Now I don't know if I love the woman."
They lay there longer, neither speaking, just breathing. At first, Dick thought he might drown beneath the words - the rain, the claws digging into his chest. Unconsciously, his hand sought out the edge of Batman's cape which he'd hid under so often as a little Robin, so young and so warm.
Now, his fingers were cold.
"Is it okay if there's more than just - pain?" Dick said softly. "I should hate her, yet I keep coming up with reasons I don't and memories where I didn't - where I thought . . ."
"No one has the right to tell you to hate her. It doesn't mean what happened hurt less." Batman said simply, voice still so soft.
"B . . ." Dick breathed, and then they lapsed once more into silence.
There had been more silence between them than words, and Dick couldn't help but be grateful.
(He was so sick of videos online and pamphlets stuffed with words tight enough to give him a migraine and lectures about how it's okay to be a victim, okay to hate, okay to hurt, okay to be angry, because words felt so meaningless when his whole body was numb, and his thoughts were like a haze. He didn't need permission to be angry or hateful or to hurt.)
(He just needed someone to shut up and lie in the rain with him.)
Dick's hand fisted fully in Batman's cape. "We should go in."
Batman took a breath, a stray raindrop crashing against his cheek as he said "Whenever you want, chum."
Dick leaned his head back against the ground and smiled.
(It still wasn't okay, still wasn't nice, but he knew that soon enough, the wave would crash against the shore. Then he'd pick up the pieces, convinced that this time, it was truly okay, that it was the last wave, and for a while, it would be nice again.)
(Then when it inevitably wouldn't be nice, he'd have someone with him in the rain.)