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On the morning that everything goes down, Dick answers a ringing phone.
To be more specific, he answers a phone in Bruce’s office. And that’s where everything goes to absolute shit.
He’s in there picking up some documents Bruce texted him to get. The office in question is his study in the main house, his Brucie office, where everything to do with his civilian job is located. And, since Bruce is away for a multi week mission with Clark, he’s had to kick up the slack on some Brucie work.
And, while he’s in there, the landline phone on his desk rings.
Dick pauses right after picking up a folder. He eyes the ringing phone, uncertain about what he should do.
Should I pick this up? He asks himself. Do I…would this be the right thing to do?
The phone keeps ringing.
Because he’s a nice guy (and he’s kind of curious, okay?) Dick picks up the phone. “Bruce Wayne’s office?” Dick says, a vague question in his tone.
“Ah,” A woman’s voice says on the other end of the line. “Yes, hello. Would that be Damian Wayne’s parent?”
Oh. This must be someone from the school. “Yes,” Dick says. “That’s correct.”
“Excellent,” He hears some papers shuffling. “We just wanted to inform families that all students have their art exhibitions on Friday next week. Can we confirm that Damian’s family will be coming?”
“Yes!” Dick says, beaming. He hadn’t known Damian had a family school event coming up. “Absolutely, yes.”
“Great,” The woman says. He hears typing in the background. “And can we confirm that you’ll be able to take a photograph with Damian’s artwork in it for the photo wall?”
“Of course!” Dick says. He smiles wider. “I’d love to.”
He hears more typing. “Amazing,” The woman says. “We needed each child to have one with their parent or guardian. Damian was our last holdout. We’ll see you there, Mr. Wayne.”
Dick’s eyes widen. “Wait—”
He’s met by a dial tone and the sound of his mistakes.
Dick slowly lowers his face onto Bruce’s majestic desk, phone still held up to his ear. How could he have made a mistake like that? Bruce is away for another few weeks at least. How is he going to get him to show up for Damian’s event? He can’t have him be the only person there with no picture…
He hears a whisper on the other end of the line.
“Hello?” He asks, confused. He waits for a little, but he’s greeted by nothing further. A little unsettled, he places the phone back down and leaves the room as soon as he’s able to.
“So. Yeah. I think I made a mistake.” Dick grimaces, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“You think?” Jason says. He chews on a chocolate chip cookie. “Dude. You answered the phone in Bruce’s office and you didn’t think that they would assume that you’re Bruce? You serious?”
“I know,” Dick groans. “It was stupid. But it’s done, and now the school thinks Bruce is coming when he isn’t, and Damian thinks Bruce is coming when he isn’t, and I’m in big trouble.”
Tim chews his own cookie thoughtfully. “I mean,” He says. “I really don’t think so to be honest. You just have to tell Damian that there was a miscommunication and Bruce can’t make it. We’ll go instead. Whatever. No big deal.”
Jason frowns. “Hey, don’t volunteer me for this.”
“Yeah,” Dick says. “We’ll go anyway. But he’ll be so disappointed.”
“Wouldn’t it be more disappointing if he thinks Bruce is coming when he isn’t?” Tim asks, raising his eyebrows.
Dick sips his tea contemplatively. “You’re right,” He says. “But the school? And Damian being the only one with no parent/guardian there? That sucks. Think we can get around that somehow?”
“Um,” Jason says. “I don’t think you could impersonate Bruce, if that’s what you’re asking. First, he’s a literal celebrity. Second, I’m pretty sure impersonating a parent to get into a school is vaguely frowned upon.”
Tim raises a hand. “I think it’s illegal,” He volunteers.
“You guys are no help,” Dick sighs. “Fine. Whatever. We’ll make it there for him anyway.”
“You never came to my school events,” Jason comments. “I bet you never knew a single project I ever did.”
Dick lifts the mug back to his lips. It hides his grin as he stage whispers “Ka-chow” into his tea.
Jason’s face goes pale. “You son of a—”
“Cars?” Tim says, voice rising about two octaves in a second.
“NO!”
“Oh, yes,” Dick says, putting the mug back down. “Do you know how many times I heard ‘Oh, same old, same old. What's up with you?’ Whenever the word ‘wasabi’ was said? Years. I heard that for years. And I had to hear it again for his film review presentation.”
“FUCK OFF!”
“Cars Two?” Tim says, two seconds away from hysterical laughter. “It wasn’t even the good Cars?”
“Hey!” Jason points at him. “I’ll have you know that Cars Two is a very serviceable sequel to—”
“It was about Mater!”
“Yeah, and he’s—hold on, how did you recognize the quote was from Cars Two?”
Dick makes his stealthy exit at the sounds of the now heated debate, grinning all the way.
As he ducks around the side of the kitchen, he sees someone turn the corner. Alfred, He thinks, speeding up. Alfred may have some sage advice for these moments
When he turns the corner, there’s nobody to be seen.
“Yes, you should go!” Steph says. “Are you kidding me? Go!”
Dick sighs, leaning against an old city gargoyle. “But,” He says, “Batman should…”
“Oh please,” Steph scoffs. Her legs swing as she sits on the side of the roof, blonde hair blowing in the cold Gotham night. “You know Robin would prefer it that you went instead of Batman anyway.”
“No he wouldn’t!” Dick protests.
The comm buzzes in his ear. “Um, guys? Shouldn’t we be paying attention here?”
Dick laughs under his breath. “You’re right, Signal. Sorry. Keeping an eye out now.”
“Yeah, Signal,” Steph says. “What do you think? About Nightwing’s predicament?”
Dick smiles, looking back to the street below.
There’s a short silence. “I mean, sure,” Duke says. “We’re all going, right?”
“Not about that going,” Steph says. “About the parent picture going. For Nightwing to be in the picture instead? Since Batman isn’t gonna be there.”
“But he’s not the parent,” Duke argues. “Isn’t that, I don’t know. Not allowed?”
Steph sighs. “Come on, dude,” She says. “You’re being too literal about this.”
“I mean,” Duke says. “Legally speaking. Will the school even let it happen? It’s possible we’ll all just get kicked out and it’ll be even more embarrassing for Robin.”
Dick frowns. “He’s right,” He says. “I didn’t consider that part.”
“Oh come on,” Steph says. “Don’t make it a big deal. Just do it. Nike style.”
Dick looks back down at the silent street, considering his options. Which would be the better option for Damian?
At his next blink, the street changes.
Instead of a street corner with a white parked car and fire hydrant, there’s now a shattered image overwhelming his vision. The canvas of his sight has cracks running down the image , separating Gotham into various pieces. Each piece looks different (night, day, early morning). It’s like he’s looking at different times of day layered over each other, all of time passing by simultaneously.
Dick slams his eyes shut. He rubs them furiously.
“Nightwing?” And that’s Steph, voice concerned. “What’s up?”
Dick’s almost scared to open his eyes. “Give me a sec,” He says, trying to keep his voice calm.
He works up the courage and opens his eyes back up, and in the second it takes for his vision to readjust, he sees that it’s back to normal.
He breathes a sigh of relief. “All good,” He says. “Any updates on—”
He cuts himself off as a dark figure leaps onto the roof next to him, elegantly landing and slinking towards the rest of them.
“Hey,” Steph grins, standing up. “Any movement?”
“Riddler’s group are on their way,” Cass says, and there’s no mistaking her battle-readiness. “Be prepared.”
“Yes!” Steph says. She stands up, stretching. “Let’s gooo! Formation eighty four, right?”
Her voice echoes strangely on the number, bouncing around Dick’s head, layering over different voices.
He shakes his head hard, then stands up too. “Right,” He says on comms. “We go in together.”
He looks at Cass, giving her a smile. “Ready?”
Cass shrugs, voice sparkling with humor. “As I ever am,” She replies. “Also…”
“Hm?” Dick says, mind already on the best way to flip back onto the ground below.
“You should go,” Cass says, and approaching voices interrupt Dick before he can respond.
After that, things just get weirder.
Dick doesn’t have much time to spare: he has to decide how he’s going to handle Damian’s issue, how he’s going to make sure he can be as happy as possible. But things just keep happening to him, with no clear explanation and it’s really starting to freak him out.
He knows that he should be asking for help at this point. It could be one of many things: medical issue, psychological issue, work issue? He hasn’t been in a situation where he thinks he could’ve been magicked or anything, so…maybe this can wait, just so the school thing can go without a hitch.
So he just decides to ignore it. But sometimes, when he starts seeing things out of the corner of his eye or hears things that don’t make sense, he needs a moment to recover.
Like now, hanging out with Alfred in the manor while he straightens up in his biweekly spring cleanings. Dick helps however he can, although sometimes he thinks he hinders more than helps most of the time.
This time around Babs is there too, and it’s so wonderful to catch up that he loses concentration and when he starts to see colors at the edge of his vision, he knows that he needs to pull himself together. So, he excuses himself and runs to the bathroom.
Dick splashes water on his face, breathing in deeply.
Pull yourself together, He thinks, staring at his face in the mirror. Pull yourself together.
Is this stress? Is he so stressed about Damian’s school thing that he’s starting to hallucinate? Surely not.
He sighs, clicking open the bathroom door and making his way back to the living room. He enters to see Babs still on the couch, book in hand, while Alfred straightens picture frames behind her.
“I believe your path forward is clear, Master Dick,” Alfred says. He picks up the conversation that has been started moments before, without missing a single step. “Go to the school event and offer your support where it’s needed. Including the individual pictures. When Master Bruce is unavailable, you have the right in absentia.”
“Well, yeah,” Babs says. “I don’t think anyone denies that part, Alfred. It’s just a matter of approaching it intelligently. And since we’ll all be there to back him up, it should go okay.” She gives Dick a piercing look. “Although…I’m pretty sure we can make you look like Bruce, pass you off as him. Problem solved.”
“I would advise against that,” Alfred says. “The ethics of doing this would be dubious to say the least.”
Dick groans, settling back on the couch. “I gotta say,” He says. “I’m getting a lot of opinions from the peanut gallery on this.”
“You asked,” Babs says, rolling her eyes.
“Regardless, Master Dick,” And here, Alfred’s voice takes a softer quality. “Whatever you decide, know that it’s with Master Damian’s well being in mind. And that is the most important element of this situation.”
Dick smiles to himself. His eyes wander to the window, and the rain that lashes through the dark sky. “Thanks, Alfie,” He says softly.
He blinks, and sees a face pressed up against the window. The face is set on a wild expression, blue eyes flashing against the darkness of the sky.
Dick practically jumps, almost falling off the couch. He blinks again, and the face vanishes.
“Dick?” Babs asks. “You okay?”
Dick shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry,” He says, shaky. “Lost my balance. I’m good.”
He keeps staring at the window. It remains empty all night.
“Let’s go,” Dick says. He taps his foot, straightening his tie nervously. “Everyone ready to go?”
He does a headcount of the group gathered by the Manor’s entrance. It had been an ordeal making sure everyone got there on time. “Who’s missing?”
Jason glances around the group critically. He has forgone Dick’s strict insurrections to “dress nice”. “Still missing Tim,” He says, then mutters under his breath “Of course.”
Steph smirks back at him. She, at least, had followed the dress code. “Yeah, I know, right?”
“Be nice,” Dick says mildly. He checks his watch. “Okay, maybe we should go in groups. That way, we can get there early enough to—”
Another blink, and his watch vanishes. He looks up, startled “What—”
He’s still in the manor. But…
Everyone’s disappeared. The warm glow of the halls have vanished, replaced with dark hallways and a cold air surrounding him. The familiar walls and floors have a haze of gray surrounding them, and he feels choked on the feeling of despair that radiates out of every corner.
He steps back, and everything goes back to normal.
Babs raises her eyebrows at him. “Get there early enough to—?”
They hadn’t noticed. What in the hell is happening to him?
Dick feels his mind start to whirl, and he desperately tries to hold on. “Enough to—”
He blinks again, and he’s back, he’s back at the empty manor, but this time there are sounds too: whispering in the hallways, silent tapping on the floors.
Dick whirls around. “What the hell…”
He comes face to face with a familiar face, a face with bright blue eyes, a face that he had seen both at the window a few days ago, and in the bathroom mirror every day of his life.
His own face blinks back at him, looking just startled.
“Hey,” Dick says. “Who are—”
The world shatters.