Archive of Our Own

Dick was startled awake by a ringing he quickly realized was his phone when he slammed his hand on his alarm clock and nothing happened. Opening his eyes proved to be a herculean task, but he managed it, squinting blearily at the offending object. He blinked, for a second, then jolted up, any semblance of sleep leaving him the second he realized who it was.

Wally.

He scrambled to pick up the phone from the nightstand, almost dropped it in his haste, and stared at the contact picture flashing on the screen. It was one of them together, their faces squished together and grinning widely at the camera.

Dick suddenly felt a spike of guilt go through his chest because he knew exactly why Wally would be calling. He’d been avoiding just about everyone, including his boyfriend, for the past month and a half.

He didn’t know what compelled him this time, but he hesitantly swiped his thumb to answer the call and waited for Wally to start talking.

“Hey, Rob,” Wally greeted brightly. It made Dick smile a bit.

“Hey Walls,” Dick answered, his voice a little crackly from disuse. He tried clearing his throat. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in on you, babe. Haven't been able to get a hold of you. Actually, no one has. You haven’t been around the tower in a while,” Wally said evenly, but there was an undertone of worry in his voice, reminiscent of Alfred’s chastising. Dick winced.

“Yeah, I’ve just been… busy,” he said, unconvincingly.

“Busy?” Wally asked doubtfully.

He doubled down. “Yep.”

“What, too busy to text me back?” Wally teased, his light tone doing nothing to curb the shame Dick felt at his lousy coping mechanisms.

“Sorry,” he said honestly. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

Except he did mean to ignore Wally. Not because of anything the man did, just the fact that Dick couldn’t stand the thought of talking to anyone before he’d been able to sort himself out. He had a carefully crafted image of stability within the hero community. Even if he and Wally had moved past the point in their relationship that was professional first, where Dick was making an effort to let himself be vulnerable, it was still a habit to isolate.

Thanks, Bruce.

“Hey, it’s okay man, I was only kidding,” Wally reassured quickly, chuckling unsurely to ease any tension.

“I know, but I’m still sorry. Things have just been hectic with work and Blud. I took so much time off and I’ve been trying to get back into the swing of things,” Dick explained, only half lying. He’d just gotten back to work a few weeks ago after taking his forty days of mourning, and as a result, he’d been really busy with everything he hadn’t been there to keep up. But it was nothing he wasn’t used to; in fact, it felt par for the course with Dick’s life.

As for patrol, he’d only been out sporadically since he got back. He had been trying to keep a semi-regular schedule to make sure Bludhaven didn’t go to shit, but it didn’t work as well as he thought it would. Almost every time he went out, he saw flashes of red, yellow, and green in the corner of his eye and could only stand it for so long until he’d have to go home.

“You know you can text me whenever, Rob,” Wally said softly, pulling Dick from his thoughts. “If you’re stressed, I wanna know so I can help you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dick replied honestly, hoping Wally could hear it too. “I will.” He waited a moment before asking, “What’s been up with you? How’s school?”

Although Dick knows the other noticed, Wally doesn’t say anything about his poorly concealed attempt to change the subject and starts talking about the amount of reading he had to catch up on for his Analytical Chemistry class.

“Seriously, you’d think he would’ve given me some kind of extension with how much class I’d missed, but the old fart expected me to read seven chapters and take notes by the next class.”

“Can’t you read at super-speed?” Dick laughed.

“That’s not the point!” Wally exclaimed, and continued rambling about the other classes he had missed while they were off-planet.

After a solid five minutes of empty yet comforting conversation, Wally breathed out a sigh and said, “Besides school, there’s been nothing much.”

“Nothing is kinda nice,” Dick commented.

“Yeah, it can be,” Wally agrees. “Oh, wait! There was something I wanted to ask! The team is heading to Keystone tonight to help me with a drug bust. You should come with. Everyone’s been asking about you.” Dick frowned.

“I don’t know Walls…” he trailed off.

“Come on, please?” Wally whined. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Dick said automatically, as if there could be no other response.

“So?” Wally asked with a playful lilt. “You’ll come spend time with your poor, deprived boyfriend?”

“There’s not going to be any surprise rogues to fight?”

“As far as I’m aware, no.”

“No unplanned explosions or a harebrained rescue mission?”

“There shouldn’t be, unless someone gets kidnapped again. And you know how that goes.”

“Fair,” Dick agreed. “I’m not gonna get stuck with a neurotoxin this time, right?”

“That was one time, and it was your fault!”

“Right?”

“Fine, right. No surprise guests, no b-plot schemes, no supervillains to thwart,” Wally listed off.

“Mhm,” Dick replied, unimpressed.

“And no whimsy and joy, because I already told Roy no trick arrows.”

Dick laughed. “Well if you went that far, I think I have to go, huh?”

“Yup,” Wally agreed. “So you’ll come?”

“I guess,” Dick said with a very put-upon sigh, but he was smiling to himself.

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Wally added, sincerity in his words.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It could be… fun,” Dick assured.

“If you’re going, then it definitely will be,” Wally said in a sickly sweet voice.

Dick can feel himself blush the slightest bit, and laughs at how ridiculous his boyfriend is. He thinks how Bruce would glare at Wally, how Alfred would smile amusedly at Bruce’s reaction, and how Jason would gag dramatically and complain loudly at Dick to ‘Tell your boyfriend to knock it off. I just ate lunch, I don’t want it to come back up!’

The memory makes the smile he has turn sad.

“You still there, hon?” Wally asked softly when Dick never responded.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Dick responded. “Hey, babe?” Dick asked. He hummed in response. “Do you think we could go back to yours after? We could order in and talk.”

“I mean, sure. But what did you wanna talk about?” Wally asked, probably confused why they couldn’t talk now.

“I’ll tell you later?” Dick asked. “Please?” he tacked on, hopeful that Wally would accept it and drop it until later.

“You’re worrying me,” You’ve been worrying me, went unsaid. “We’re… okay, right?”

“Of course,” Dick replied immediately. “It’s just… personal stuff.”

“But you’re okay?” Wally pressed.

“Yeah,” Dick said, not really convincing himself.

“Promise?”

“I promise. I just wanted to tell you in person.”

“Alright,” Wally acquiesced, exhaling a deep breath. “Okay. That sounds nice.”

“Okay,” Dick breathed out. “Cool. Send me the case file and I’ll look at it.”

“Will do,” Wally laughed lightly. “See you later?”

“Yeah. Love you,” Dick responded.

“Love you too,” Wally said and hung up. Dick set his phone down and blew out a breath. His hands were trembling as he brought them up to rub his eyes.

Dick made his way to the bathroom and turned on the water, waiting for it to warm up somewhat. As he was waiting, he checked his phone and saw Wally had already sent him the case details. Dick briefly looked at them, a drug ring that needed stopping, an in-and-out mission.

This could be good for him. Something more than work or patrol. Wallowing in grief isn’t gonna fix anything.

What’s the worst that could happen?

A small part of Dick considered telling Bruce where he was going and what he was doing, but that thought didn’t last long before a larger and louder part of him reminded him that apparently he and Bruce weren’t telling each other things anymore, so it was Bruce’s own fault being left in the dark.

Dick hadn’t spoken to Bruce since he stormed out of the cave in a flurry of seething anger six weeks ago. Alfred had called him often when he first got back to make sure he was alright, but must have decided to give him space when Dick politely declined his repeated offers of dinner at the manor.

He’d also had neighbors turn up, even just the kids in his building, ones who’d known him and heard the news. They’d offer dinner or a casserole or someone to talk to. It was touching, but he’d thank them and turn them down regardless.

Reporters were less vicious in Bludhaven than they were in Gotham, but there were still some times where he’d have to jump a roof over and climb down the fire escape to avoid the vultures. It was one of the reasons he had been so hesitant to go back to work, having to avoid a media frenzy all looking for a soundbite to use in their next story.

Mr. Grayson-Wayne, do you have anything to say about the death of Jason Todd-Wayne?

Mr. Grayson, have you spoken to Bruce Wayne recently following the death of your brother?

Mr. Grayson, would you care to comment on why you weren’t seen at Jason Todd’s funeral?

Needless to say, Dick wasn’t using the front entrance that much anymore.

Evidently, Barbara had the same strategy that Dick did, because she had also gone low contact and was flying under the radar. He knew she was keeping up with her physical therapy (as he expected), and she’d been taking night classes at Gotham U for computer science.

They had been texting, not regularly, but neither of them held that against the other. Both of them were busy, never putting much effort into responding. Dick with trying to keep everything he had built together, and Babs with creating a new identity.

Oracle, she had said. Dick never failed to be impressed with her. She was still going, even after all that she’d been put through.

He had asked her how she could bear it. She told him, I can still fight. And if I can, I will.

He thinks about those words as he walks into the meeting room, hoping the mantra might give him a boost of confidence.

“Hey, Robbie, long time no see!” Roy beamed as soon as he saw Dick walk through the doors, clapping the other on the shoulder. Dick smiled back.

“Yeah, no kidding,” he said with a snort, accepting the other’s fist bump. He surveyed the group and saw that everyone else had already arrived. He’d read the list of people on Wally’s list, but was still a little impressed to see Garth back from Atlantis, and Kori, who he was pretty sure had been off-planet.

“How’ve you been?”

“Eh, you know how it is. Busy,” Dick said vaguely.

“Oh yeah. Ollie’s been on some new kind of bullshit lately, so I’ve been patrolling on my own.”

“I feel that,” Dick said, somewhat bitterly. Although he didn’t know specifically what Ollie had done this time, he and Roy had always bonded over complaining about their adoptive fathers.

“Wonder Twin!” Donna called, briefly startling the two. “Get over here!”

Roy smirked at him, knowing Donna would just march over to him if he didn’t go talk to her. He patted him on the back as he went to go talk to Kori and Raven, greeting the former with a peck on the cheek and the latter with a peace sign.

Dick walked over to the Amazon, watching as she gave him a small wave contrasted with a big grin.

“Hey, Donna,” Dick greeted, giving the woman a hug. It was tight without being suffocating, and firm enough that Dick felt immense comfort in the embrace. He had to physically stop his body from drooping with exhaustion.

Donna noticed anyway, because when she pulled away, her brow was pinched ever so slightly. She must have decided not to comment on it, instead saying, “I’m so glad you decided to come with. Someone needs to keep Wally in check.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Dick asked with fake hurt, clutching his pearls. Donna seemed to think about it.

“No, you’re also a huge pain in my ass.”

“Well,” Dick grinned. “That was the goal.” Donna shoved him lightly, and they both laughed at the familiar dynamic.

They quieted a bit, and Donna looked at the gathered group, surveying them. “I just realized- it’s like we’re getting the band back together. It’s even perfect that Gar and Vic are busy because now we’re like those classic rock bands where half of the members are missing.”

Dick can’t help but laugh again. “Donna, we were all together like, two months ago.”

She merely shrugs and smiles in response. “Felt like longer.”

“Also, I’m pretty sure those members are always missing because they’re dead,” Dick said with a flat look.

“Hmm, probably.”

Their conversation was briefly interrupted by Wally speeding by, giving Dick a peck on the cheek, greeting them both quickly, and speeding away to continue his preparations. The burst of laughter from them both drew the attention of the rest of the group.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this frazzled,” Garth commented.

“Nah, I think this is his natural state,” Donna said.

“Can confirm,” Dick added with a nod.

The team devolved into a bigger conversation, Kori and Garth sharing their diplomatic stories and everyone else giving updates on their own cities.

It was nice, the team catching up with each other, making jokes, and enjoying each others’ company. They could almost pretend to be a normal friend group of young adults and not a team of highly trained superheroes.

It made Dick realize how much he missed his friends.

He felt a woosh, and a hand on his hip as Wally finally stopped next him.

“Hey, babe. All good?” Dick asked.

“Yep,” Wally replied, giving him a hopeful smile before he spoke up a little louder over the group. “Alright, since everybody’s here, we can go over the specifics of the plan.”

And like that, they moved to sit at the meeting table and Wally’s voice faded into the background. Of course Dick was listening, he caught all the important points; Wonder Girl had gone with Kid Flash, Starfire with Raven, and Aqualad with Speedy. Nightwing had been the one to volunteer to go alone. Distract and take down any bad guys while Wally and Donna search for evidence, don’t be stupid. Simple enough, which gave Dick the chance to pore over the case file.

Despite being a new drug ring, they certainly had numbers. Almost one hundred and fifty hired lackeys, with three other known bases, this one bringing it to four. They had been operating out of Central and Keystone for eight months, and Wally had been trying to take them down for six.

The whole operation had grown exceptionally quickly, and the drugs themselves had been difficult to trace. Recently though, there were a concerning number of incidents where people were being detained because of violent reactions to whatever drugs they were pushing.

They had been able to avoid any intervention from either Wally or Barry, which was why Wally had asked for backup this time around. Everything seemed to make sense, but there was something off about the case that was gnawing at the corners of Dick’s mind, an itch of familiarity that he couldn’t seem to scratch.

“Any questions?” Wally asked, grabbing Dick’s attention again. When no one had raised any points, he gave a grin and said “Great! Let’s kick some drug-smuggling ass!”

In spite of Wally’s words, there weren’t as many bad guys to fight as he thought there would be. Still, a considerable amount to call in the Titans, but much less than what Dick had been anticipating.

At least he could listen to the conversation on the comms to keep him awake.

“I wish magic was real,” Speedy sighed after an extended silence.

A beat. Then, from Aqualad, “Dude, magic is real.”

“Then why can’t I have the magical girl transformation of my dreams?”

“Because you’re ugly,” Kid Flash quipped.

“Screw you!” Speedy shrieked, the rest of the team bursting into laughter. “But seriously, wouldn’t that be so convenient? Not having to actually change into a suit? Or having your own intro music?” Dick considered the questions, slowing down as he silently approached two guards making rounds.

“I mean, I guess, but what kind of transformation are we talking here? Like Sailor Moon? Or more like Power Rangers?” Aqualad asked.

“Can Power Rangers be considered a magical girl transformation?” Dick wondered aloud. He quietly took down one guard with a hold and used a tranquilizer on the other before he could reach his radio, making a mental note that he was running low.

“Why not?” Speedy retorted.

“I guess… I don’t know,” Dick answered. “Okay, so Power Rangers. Or Winx Club?”

“I thought the choices were Power Rangers or Sailor Moon?” Starfire asked.

“Well, I would obviously have a Winx Club transformation,” Dick stated matter-of-factly as he picked the lock to get to the rest of the warehouse, stifling a yawn as he did so.

“You so would,” Wonder Girl agreed readily.

“I want a Ben 10 transformation,” Kid Flash said idly. “Or maybe Elsa.”

“You’re not blonde enough for Elsa, ginger,” Raven snickered.

“Yeah, but you’re pale enough. You can be Elsa,” Kid Flash shot back.

“I’m already a magical girl, I don’t need to be a character,” Raven said dryly. Dick smiled at the tone, and did a quick sweep of the room before moving on. He hadn’t seen much so far, just the occasional hired thug making rounds, but they were easy to deal with.

Wonder Girl hummed, then said, “I think Star would have a Sailor Moon moment, but that’s a given.” The rest of the team chorused in agreement.

“Which one are you then?” Starfire asked, clearly content with the consensus.

“Me? Oh I’m going for Tokyo Mew Mew,” Wonder Girl said straightly.

Speedy laughed outright at that. “Of course you would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wonder Girl asked, but couldn’t hide the smile in her voice. Dick also felt a smile as he crept towards the pallets he spotted on the corner of the space.

“Oh, nothing,” Speedy said. “Wait, can Aqualad have an H2O transformation?”

“Why the hell do I have to be the mermaid one? This feels targeted.”

“That’s because it is,” Dick laughed, pulling a small pry bar from his belt to open the crates as subtly as he could.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be H2O and you can have Power Rangers,” Speedy said with finality. “I think I’d make a pretty mermaid anyway.”

The rest of the team laughed again, but Dick ignored it, confused at what he was seeing. Even blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. It wasn’t until he picked up a canister and felt his heart rate tick up a bit that he recognized what he was holding.

The familiarity of listening to banter over the comms and slugging a few bad guys made Dick feel lighter than he had in months, so much so that he almost forgot why they were here doing this.

This was supposed to be a straightforward drug bust, cut and dry, so why the helldid these random thugs have freaking Fear Toxin? It’s a Gotham native drug, it doesn’t make sense why a drug ring from Keystone would have dozens of crates full of it.

Dick spoke up over the conversation that had changed topics since he’d stopped listening. “Rebreathers on guys, we gotta wrap this up. They’ve got a shit load of Fear Toxin and it’s some pretty nasty stuff to breathe in.” The lightheartedness from before was gone, replaced with a professional air at the tone he had used.

“What is Fear Toxin?” Starfire asked hesitantly.

“It’s a gas one of the Gotham rogues created,” Dick said, which was a simple way to put it. The toxin could make you see your worst fear, your most painful memories, make you so paranoid you can’t tell what’s real, or a combination of any of those. It mostly relied on how vindictive Scarecrow was feeling that month. “Let’s just say it makes you feel pretty awful. The reaction depends on the strain,” Dick replied.

Anyone who had lived in Gotham had experienced a brush with at least one of the rogue-created nightmares, whether it be Fear Toxin, Joker Venom, or any one of Ivy’s pollens. As vigilantes, the Bats had more experience than most citizens, and Dick was not eager to add another encounter to that list. He had a feeling he knew what he’d see.

“Which strain is this?” Wonder Girl asked after a moment.

“No way to tell. It might even be a new one. All I know is that we gotta finish here, quick. If they have Fear Toxin, then we can’t be sure this place is secure, or what else they might have.”

“We’ve got what we need,” Kid Flash confirmed.

“Copy that, we’re almost done here,” Speedy responded.

“So are we,” Raven chimed in.

“Good. Finish what you’re doing and head out.” Everyone gave their affirmations as they started making their way to the rendezvous point a half mile away from the warehouse.

That’s what Dick had tried to do as well. He pulled out his rebreather, made sure it was snug on his face, and fully intended to get the hell out of dodge after swiping a few samples of the toxin.

And maybe if Dick wasn’t so bone tired and not hours deep into the mission, if he had eaten anything more than a protein bar in the past 12 hours, he wouldn’t have put himself in this situation, but here he was.

Mistake number one was not realizing there was someone behind him until he turned around and saw a lone thug. Being aware of his surroundings at all times was the very first thing Bruce had trained into him. Never let someone have the element of surprise. Maintain the upper hand. His exhaustion must have prevailed against any bat-training, because Dick was thoroughly caught off guard. The guy, he noticed belatedly, was holding a bat, and took a swing right for his face.

Mistake number two was not dodging fast enough. Dick had always had fast reflexes, a requirement in this line of work. One small hesitation could mean the difference between a bullet hitting the wall, and a bullet hitting him. Usually, his movements weren’t so delayed, but usually he had a decent (-ish) sleep schedule. Dick jerked back, but the bat still caught the side of his face, hard enough to crack his rebreather. He had tried to recover, but the guy also got a good shot at his ribs before Dick could block the second blow, and he felt a small crack in an explosion of pain on his right side.

Finally, mistake number three and the universe punched him for his hubris. Truly, a rookie mistake not using any one of the numerous weapons Nightwing kept on his person and in his uniform at all times. Bruce had always drilled into him that being well-prepared was the best he could be. Dick stumbled back into the crates as the guy geared back for another swing. Dick grabbed the first thing he could, a canister of Fear Toxin, and cracked the thug across the temple. He crumpled to the ground as Dick let out a sigh of relief despite the twinge in his side.

“Nightwing!” Kid Flash said roughly, which told Dick it wasn’t the first time he’d called his name. “We heard struggling, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I-” he started, but stopped as he heard a quiet hiss and looked down at the dented canister of his makeshift weapon and dropped it as if it burned him. He could hardly hear the clang of metal on concrete over the blood rushing in his ears.

“Fuck,” Dick breathed out when he reached up to feel his shattered rebreather. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Nightwing? What’s wrong?” That was Starfire’s voice. Or maybe Wonder Girl’s? It was definitely feminine.

Dick could taste the metallic bitterness of Fear Toxin as he took a reluctant, short breath, the green gas slowly floating around the space.

“I’m compromised,” Dick rushed into the comm. “Gonna need an emergency evac, it’s gonna kick in pretty soon.”

“What’s gonna kick in? What do you mean?” Dick thinks that was Aqualad.

“Fear Toxin. Remember what I was telling you about before? Screaming, maybe fighting- probably gonna need a sedative too,” Dick said, powering down his escrima sticks. “I’d give you mine, but I used the last I had on those guards.”

And of course, he didn’t have any anti-toxin either. Because fuck Bruce, that’s why. At least, that’s normally how Dick would justify it. Right then, he wished he had just taken the stupid antidote.

Dick realized he was feeling the start of a panic attack, which is new; normally Scarecrow’s gas starts with paranoia or memories. He could feel his breathing speeding up, the prickly feeling all over his body, his stomach churning. The smell of blood wafted through his nose and he couldn’t help the bile that crawled its way up his throat, hunching over despite his screaming ribs and emptying what little was in his stomach.

Dick stood up to wipe his mouth, ignoring the chattering in his ear he couldn't understand anymore and immediately curled up again, feeling the cold grip of fear in his chest that wouldn’t let go.

He doesn’t breathe, can’t, until he lets out a wet gasp at the sound of screams.

He also doesn’t think about why the person those screams belong to is here, because he recognizes them. They’re Jason’s.

“Robin?” Dick calls out, whipping his head around to locate where the cries are coming from. “Robin, where are you?”

“Dick! Dick, please help me!”

Dick doesn’t know when Jason got here or why exactly he’s here, only that he needs to find his brother.

“H-hang on, Jason, I’m coming,” Dick called back, running in the direction he could hear Jason’s voice coming from. He turned down a hallway only to be met with a never-ending line of doors. Dick flung open the first one he saw, the room empty, save for the fact it was covered in blood.

Dick didn’t think someone could bleed that much and stay alive.

“Dick, please!” Jason screamed.

“Sit tight, Little Wing. I’m on my way, I swear I’m almost there,” Dick yelled as he frantically threw open the next door, searching for his little brother but finding another empty, blood-soaked room.

“You said you’d come.” Empty room.

“I know I did, I am coming,” Dick assured, his voice cracking as he checked room after room, his heart sinking as he continued to find nothing but blood.

“You said if I ever needed help, you’d catch me.” Empty room.

“I know,” Dick sobbed.

“You promised.” Another goddamn empty room.

“I know I did, I’m trying, but I can’t find you,” Dick yelled, running his hands down his face in frustration, scrubbing at the tears that had leaked past his domino mask.

Focus, he told himself. You’re not useful if you can’t think. Dick tried to see if he could spot anything about his surroundings that might help him. He was in the middle of a warehouse, completely dark except for a flickering fluorescent light hanging above.

“Dick, I’m right here,” Jason’s voice said right in his ear.

“Where?” Dick asked, whipping to where he heard the voice come from.

“Here,” Jason’s voice came from behind him. When Dick turned to where he heard it, he saw another light, dangling ominously. His eyes fell to the broken form of his brother huddled on the floor.

“Jason,” Dick gasped wetly as he ran over to crouch by him, trying to ignore the flinch from the boy. “God, what did he do to you?” There was blood everywhere, caked and dried. His domino was cracked, left eye swollen shut.

“Dickie,” Jason groaned, picking his head up off the ground. “You’re here.” His voice was wrecked, like he’d been screaming for hours.

He probably had been screaming for hours.

“I’m here, I’m here Jay,” Dick said as he went to untie Jason’s wrists. His forearm was bent at an odd angle. Both of his legs looked broken.

“God, Dickie, it hurts,” Jason sobbed out as he shifted and put pressure on what looked like a dislocated shoulder.

“I know bud, I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” Dick said between cries. He could hear the horrible raspy wheeze every time Jason tried to take a breath. Punctured lung, his mind supplied. Dick reached up to his comm and shouted “Bruce! Bruce, can you- I need some help here-”

“Dick, please, I’m- I’m scared. I don’t wanna die,” Jason whispered, grasping at Dick’s forearms with broken fingers.

“You won’t,” Dick assured, but something in the back of his head told him that wasn’t true.

“He wouldn’t stop. I tried to get out, but he wouldn’t stop,” Jason said weakly.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry,” Dick was nearly incoherent as he dragged Jason closer to him, trying to be mindful of his injuries. There were probably so many more that he couldn’t see, solely based on the way Jason trembled, his face tense with pain.

“Let me fix your shoulder, Jay, it’ll-”

“No! No, please don’t, I can’t- I can’t do it, it hurts.”

“But it might help-”

“No, don’t touch it!” Jason shouted, trying to wiggle out of Dick’s hold, which would just hurt him more.

“Okay,” Dick said quickly, trying to soothe. “It’s okay, I won’t touch it.”

Jason stopped moving, all the fight he had left leaving his bones in a flash. They stayed like that, Dick holding Jason, trying to clean his face of the blood and grime while avoiding the bruises, whispering any soft assurances he could manage between hiccuping breaths.

Dick could hear Jason mumbling under his breath, before he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, tears drying up. “I’m sorry for running. You… you guys were the best family I had.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Dick said, brushing the hair out of Jason’s face.

“Thanks for being my brother, Dickie. Tell… tell the others I’m sorry,” Jason said slowly. It took Dick a moment to realize his chest had stopped moving, his limbs going limp.

“No, no no no no, please, Jay, come back! Please come back!” Dick screamed, jostling Jason, but he didn’t stir. He briefly considered CPR, but with the numerous cracked ribs, and probably already punctured lung, Dick had no clue what to do. When he looked up, he saw the still form of Batman peeking out of the shadows, looming over the two.

“Bruce, do something!” Dick yelled, clutching tighter to Jason’s body.

He’s so small. He’s too small.

Bruce did not react.

“Don’t just fucking stand there! He needs help!” Dick shouted, bordering on hysterics.

Bruce still did not move.

“Fuck!” Dick screamed, standing up. He was about to scream at Bruce, ask what the fuck was wrong with him, but soon stopped himself when he heard the familiar manic laughter emerge from the darkness. He found himself face to face with the man responsible for what happened to his brother.

“Wow, they sure don’t make em’ like they used to! I thought the big finale would have more… pizazz,” the Joker said with a wave of his hands. “A certain… je ne sais quoi,”

“You’re sick,” Dick spat with all the venom he could muster. “You fucking psycho!”

“I prefer the term ‘mentally maladjusted’, but whatever floats your boat!” the Joker giggled out.

“He was just a kid! How could you do that to a fucking kid?” Dick could hardly see past the burning rage he felt pooling in his gut.

“Aww, poor birdie. D’ya miss your brother? The one you were never there for? The one who tried to call you, and you were too busy with your friends to answer?”

“I-” Dick stuttered, completely shocked by the accusation. “I tried to be there. I was-” he started to defend, only to be interrupted by another voice.

“Did you? Did you try? Or were you too busy being angry at me that you ignored him to the point where he turned to a total stranger for love?” Batman said, finally breaking his stoic silence.

“I did try,” Dick insisted, “I was- I was there.”

“Just not when he needed you most,” Batman said coldly. “It’s your fault he’s dead.”

“Don’t throw that shit on me, Bruce. You were- it can’t be my fault-”

“Can’t it?” Joker asked.

“It is. Jason is dead. You’re the reason my son is dead.”

“No, it’s- I’m not…” the protest died in Dick’s throat, because it was his fault. If he hadn’t treated Jason like an outsider in the beginning, if he had put more effort into seeing him, if he’d answered that damn phone call, maybe he’d still be here.

“You are. And you’re going to have to live with that,” Batman said with finality, walking away from Dick.

“Batsy really doesn’t have a sense of humor, huh? Well, I’d best be on my way, this place isn’t gonna blow itself up!” the Joker laughed as he walked out of the warehouse, leaving Dick alone.

Your fault.

With Bruce’s words bouncing around in his head, Dick couldn’t make himself move.

Your fault.

Dick couldn’t bring himself to care about Joker’s words.

Your fault.

Dick can’t even think as the whole warehouse is engulfed in flames, his body lighting up in pain, and then absolutely nothing.

Wally was at a loss for words.

Which is saying something, because he almost always had a quip, a comment, a comeback for any situation, something to lighten the mood.

Nothing could lighten this.

Everyone on the team had seen things. It came with the job. They had seen each other at their lowest, smallest, most broken, and lifted each other up, supported, and encouraged. Rob, out of them, all had been there for the whole team. That’s why they worked so well, because they were all so close.

Wally was rethinking the dynamic now.

Most of the team had little clue what exactly Nightwing was seeing, but Wally had a small feeling. He’d been screaming for Robin, someone named Jason. They knew it must have been horrific based on the screams and sobs they had heard coming from their friend.

After they had heard Nightwing’s warning, they all ran to grab him. He had sounded so panicked when he spoke, so heartbroken when he screamed, they knew they had to get to him sooner rather than later.

No amount of training could have prepared Wally for what was happening right now.

He flinched as he heard yet another scream, followed by broken sobs. Nightwing should not be making those sounds. Bright, charming, easy-going Rob should not be making those sounds.

Wally could tell it was getting to everyone else too, judging by the awful tension in the room as they debated on what they should do.

“We need to call Batman,” Wally said firmly.

“He hasn’t been around for months. There’s no way he’d come for this,” Roy reasoned.

“We have to try. We don’t have access to any antidotes for Rob. There’s no other way to help him but to call Batman,” Donna said.

“I don’t think him and Bats are even speaking right now. If we call him, that could just make things so much worse,” Roy argued, like he understood what that felt like. Wally knew he did.

“Can we not let this run its course?” Kori asked, face pinched. “I suppose he’s quieted down?”

Right as she said that, Rob let out another shout, this time though, he started yelling for ‘Barbara’ again. He’d been cycling through names, but the one he called for most was Jason’s.

“No, we can’t let this ‘run its course’ and that’s exactly why,” Donna explained. “Not only are we prolonging what is very clearly a distressing experience, but we don’t want him to hurt himself. We disarmed him when he was unconscious, but Rob is a resourceful guy.”

“Who’s to say that this isn’t a new strain? Maybe Batman doesn’t even have an antidote,” Roy offered.

“Well didn’t he gather samples? I say we call Batman, and have him run the samples to see if there’s anything we can do,” Garth said.

“I… agree. That sounds like a good plan,” Kori chimed in after hesitation, convinced by the others’ words. “He needs help now.”

“You’re not listening to me,” Roy exclaimed, gripping his hair in exasperation.

“You’re not listening to us,” Wally said to Roy, frustration boiling over. “If you cared about him, you’d let us call Bats instead of letting him scream himself raw after seeing god knows what.”

“It’s not that I don’t care,” Roy snapped back. “You think I don’t? Rob is one of my best friends. I just… I know what it’s like to be on the outs with your adoptive father. I don’t want him to get more hurt. He’s been through enough,” he finished lamely, rubbing his arms to stave off the goosebumps. Guilt crashed against Wally’s chest as he listened to the vulnerable words.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Wally spoke quietly, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “We know you care, Roy. We all care. But I don’t think we’re doing him any favors by letting this go. Not to mention, this is a serious breach of privacy, intentional or not,” Wally explained. Roy held his gaze, until his jaw unclenched and his shoulders dropped for the first time since they got back to the Tower.

“I’m sorry too,” he said, swiping his nose. “You’re right. Call Batman.” Kori was rubbing soothing circles into his back. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, like most of the team. Rob was their leader. He was strong, confident, untouchable, and it felt wrong to see him so vulnerable.

“Well, you guys can make that call, I’m gonna go relieve Raven of bird-watching,” Wally said, standing up from the table and making his way out of the meeting room and to the holding cells.

“Coward,” Roy mumbled half-heartedly under his breath. Wally laughed, but it was a hollow thing. He took his time getting to the holding cells, trying to steel himself. Wally and Rob had been best friends since they were kids, and dating for the past year and a half. He could always tell when something was up with the other. When they talked this morning, Wally knew something was wrong, and yet he pushed Rob to join them. He thought getting him back out there with the team would help.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Rob had been distant ever since the Titans got back from their most recent off-planet mission. Not just from Wally, but from everyone. Nightwing sightings in Bludhaven had become inconsistent at best, and completely evaporated in Gotham. When he was seen, gone were the lighthearted flips and quips, replaced with a sad sort of anger Wally hadn’t seen from the man in years. Not to mention, almost complete radio silence from any Bat for weeks. To say Wally was worried was the understatement of the century.

At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked in a mirror and all of his hair was gray.

“How’s he doing?” Wally asked as he approached Raven with a tight smile.

“He seems to be quieting down,” she responded. “It’s been like ten minutes since I’ve heard him.”

“And you’re sure he didn’t get out?” Wally asked as he sat next to her.

“I put a force field around the entire room,” Raven said dryly. “If he got out, I’d know.”

“Right. Sorry. I’m just-”

“Worried,” she finished for him. “Yeah. Me too.”

The two sat in silence, which might have been normal for Raven, but was uncomfortable for Wally. Surprisingly though, he wasn’t the one to break the quiet.

“It’s weird,” Raven said idly. “Seeing him like this. I guess… I always saw him as invincible.”

“I know,” Wally said in understanding.

She continued after a moment, “He always sees the good in everyone. Makes me feel like he saw good in me too.”

Wally had to stop from gaping. “Raven, you know we think you’re-”

“I know,” she cut him off. “But he was the first who made me believe it.”

Wally looked at the girl, the bindi on her forehead standing out even more than usual. He saw the dark circles under her eyes, and knew he probably didn’t look any better. “You should go get some sleep,” he offered. “I can watch him.”

“You sure?” Raven asked, but Wally could see some relief in her face.

“Yeah,” Wally said with a sigh. “I’ve got this.”

“Thanks,” Raven said with a small but genuine smile as she made her way to her room, leaving Wally with his thoughts.

Contrary to popular belief, Wally liked to think he was pretty smart. And after spending so much time around Rob for so many years, his mannerisms had rubbed off on Wally. He knew how the Bats’ detective skills worked.

He also knew he was pretty sure he’d figured out Robin’s identity. And he wouldn’t put it past anyone else on the team.

Look at the facts, Rob would always tell him.

Fact one is that something clearly happened to Robin, the second one. Based on Nightwing’s behavior the past several weeks and the whole Fear Toxin reaction. It would also explain the lack of Bat activity, from Batman, Robin, Batgirl, or Nightwing.

Fact two would be that Robin’s name was Jason, solely based on the way Nightwing was screaming for both.

Fact three, and the most damning, was that ever since Nightwing had come back from space, Wally has been keeping up with news in Bludhaven and Gotham, trying to glean any information as to why he was acting so off. He’d seen a variety of articles about the death of Jason Todd that correlated with Robin 2’s disappearance, and it wasn’t too hard to make the connection there. Coupled with his past suspicions, Wally was pretty sure he’d figured out Rob’s whole family.

But that would mean Batman is-

“West,” Wally heard come from next to him, and yelped as he nearly fell out of his seat. When he looked to where the voice came from, he saw the imposing figure of none other than Batman. He must have been sitting here longer than he thought, but that wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.

“I- uh… yes?” Wally so eloquently replied when he realized the man was awaiting an answer. The man stared back, his face carefully blank, but Wally could recognize the scrutinizing glint of his eyes behind the cowl.

“You figured it out,” he said calmly, as if they were talking about the weather.

Wally swallowed. “Figured what out, sir?”

“Our identities. You figured them out,” Batman repeated, face still staying neutral.

Wally felt his stomach drop. “Well, I mean, I- please don’t kill me,” he rushed out at a speed most couldn’t understand.

Batman was, however, one that could. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said with a small quirk of his mouth.

“Oh,” Wally didn’t know how to reply. “Uhm, thank you?” He felt immensely awkward. Not only was his boyfriend’s dad the most intimidating man alive, he was also the most paranoid man - probably on the planet - and Wally had just admitted to figuring out their secret identities, one of the better kept secrets in the world. “I’m sorry,” he tacked on at the end.

“I assumed we were compromised when I got the emergency beacon from the Titans,” Batman said in all his Batman paranoia-preparedness.

“Oh,” Wally said again, dumbly, because he didn’t know how to respond to that. He was seriously fumbling this conversation.

Batman seemed to throw him a bone, because he followed it up with, “Dick always said you could figure it out on your own. Pleased to see he was right.”

Dick. Rob’s name is Dick Grayson. Wally smiled.

And that warms something in Wally’s chest. Batman’s approval is rarer than astatine, and as a chemistry major, Wally can appreciate the comparison.

“Thank you for taking care of him.” Batman said seriously, placing a hand on Wally’s shoulder, and it was all he could do to not flinch. Of course, the other man noticed, but thankfully didn’t say anything. “I’m happy he has you and the rest of the team.”

“I- yeah,” Wally said softly. “Of course.”

Batman looked at him with a relaxed face, as close to a smile as he could get, Wally guessed, and started to walk into his son’s room. Before he could, Wally called out, “Mr. Wayne?”

Batman - Bruce Wayne - looked back, raising his eyebrow at the younger man.

Wally grinned. “Just making sure,” he said smugly.

Bruce huffed out what Rob called a Batman Laugh, which was basically not a laugh at all, just a breath of air puffed out in amusement. He turned with a flourish and made his way into the med room.

Wally sat back, deciding he might as well get some sleep while he can. He got up, just making his way down the halls of Titans’ Tower, when he stopped suddenly.

Wait… how the hell did he get past the force field?

Dick woke up and immediately wished he was still asleep. He mentally checked over his body, assessing the damage. He could feel how raw his throat was, the ache in his head, the throbbing pain in his jaw and ribs, the leftover jittery feeling of Fear Toxin-

Dick’s eyes snapped open as the memories came flooding back, bolting upright in the hospital bed. Then immediately regretted doing so as spots danced across his vision. He groaned and went to grab his head, only to meet resistance. When he looked down, his wrists were cuffed to the bed frame. Right, Fear Toxin.

He was still in his Nightwing suit, minus the gloves, boots, and belt. The padding on the restraints had saved him from chaffing, so he was able to wiggle his arms around to get the lockpicks hidden at his wrists to extend and begin picking at the lock.

He must have been more out of it than he thought, because right after he’d gotten one cuff off and almost had the other, he startled at the sudden voice filling the quiet space.

“Chum,” Batman greeted, although the growl was toned down and he sounded distinctly like Bruce.

Dick tensed, the restraint on his left hand clicking open as he shuffled awkwardly. “Hey, B.”

He wanted so badly to stay mad at Bruce, give him the cold shoulder or shout at him to leave. Dick had every right to stay mad, but with the way the room was still spinning and the on-edge feeling of drugs in his system, he found it increasingly hard to focus on any of his reasons.

Bruce sat stiffly in the chair conveniently positioned next to the hospital bed. He wordlessly handed Dick the glass of water on one of the tables, and Dick took it gratefully, sipping the water slowly to soothe his throat, trying to wash away that awful metallic-y aftertaste of Fear Toxin.

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He seemed to contemplate what he was going to say, until he evidently came up with nothing and instead reached up to pull his cowl down.

Holy shit. “B, you’re-”

“Sorry,” Bruce interrupted, his eyes red-rimmed and dark. “I’m sorry. I- I should have told you. That Jason was… I should have told you as soon as I knew.”

Dick felt his jaw drop to the floor as he watched Batman not only take his cowl off in an unsecured location, but also apologize. To Dick. Unprompted.

“I wasn’t the only one who lost someone, and I should have been there for you. I’m your…” he trailed off. “You’re my son and I should have been there for you. It wasn’t your fault and it never will be. It was mine.”

“B, you know I don’t think that,” Dick said, not knowing what to reply to first. “What happened to Jason wasn’t your fault. Or what happened to Babs or me. Not mine… not yours. No one else’s but that bastard’s,” he said slowly, trying to make himself believe the words he was saying too.

“Right,” Bruce said rigidly, like he also wasn’t believing what Dick was saying. “But when I got the emergency beacon from the Titans, I thought… you were gone and I was too late- again -and I couldn’t apologize,” he rambled. “I just- I don’t want to lose you too.”

“You won’t. Because I don’t want to lose you either. Even if you are an ass,” Dick told the man, trying to ease some of the tension.

“Fair enough,” Bruce mumbled under a chuckle. Switching gears, he asked louder, “How are you feeling?”

“I think my ribs are cracked, or at least bruised, and I might have a concussion, but I doubt it. If I do, then that’s awful protocol on the Team’s part. Other than that… just the usual Fear Toxin stuff,” Dick replied as casually as he could. Then, quieter, “I, uh… I’m sure you can guess what I saw.”

Bruce grabbed Dick’s hand gently as tears leaked past his domino. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s- it’s okay. I’m okay,” Dick said, pulling his mask off and wiping away whatever he could.

“It’s alright if you’re not okay,” Bruce said, giving a gentle squeeze of his hand.

That startled a watery laugh out of Dick. “When did you start saying things like that?” Bruce Wayne was not known for his emotional maturity. He taught his Robins how to deal with physical and even emotional pain in healthier ways, but grief? Dealing with trauma was a whole different story, something the likes of Batman had yet to master.

“I… started talking to a therapist,” Bruce said, almost sheepishly.

There must still be some drugs leftover in his system, because there’s no way Dick heard that correctly. “You - you, Mr “I believe in self-reflection” - started therapy?”

“I did,” Bruce nodded. “Someone told me it would be good for me.”

“Someone? Not Alfred?”

“No,” Bruce said, chuckling.

“I think I’d like to meet this magical someone,” Dick said with a smile.

“I’d like you to meet him too,” Bruce said in a way that was unreadable to Dick. “You should come by the manor. Whenever you’re ready, that is. There’s always a room for you, if you ever need it. No matter what.”

“…Alright.”

“And Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Wally’s a smart one,” Bruce said with his own smile.

Dick looked at Bruce in confusion, until all the blood drained from his face as he remembered what he saw, what he was probably saying - screaming for the whole team to hear.

“Fuck, Bruce, I-”

“I’m not mad.”

Okay seriously, who is this guy and what has he done with Bruce? Dick face must have shown his skepticism, because Bruce elaborated.

“It’s not your fault. There was nothing you could have done. And… maybe it’s time we stop hiding.”

Dick was so entirely caught off guard by the whole track this conversation had taken, but he didn’t want to shatter whatever illusion was in front of him by addressing it directly.

“That must be one hell of a therapist,” Dick said with a mock whistle.

“She is,” Bruce confirmed.

“Probably costs two hundred an hour though.”

“Try four hundred,” Bruce replied. “But I’m serious. Part of this whole ‘healing’ thing is reaching out. And… it’s easier to reach out when your friends know who you are. I guess.”

“You guess?” Dick asked with an eyebrow raise, not unlike Alfred’s.

“I do,” he said with a smile.

Hours later, and Bruce had left Dick to get some rest, with the promise that he’d stay overnight for observation, which Dick had begrudgingly agreed to. He’d migrated to his own room at the tower, forgoing sleep in favor of slumping at his desk to catch up on some work on his laptop.

Dick loved his job, he really did. Being a social worker gave him a way to help people outside of the mask, but times like this made him wish someone else could do all the paperwork.

God, he hated paperwork.

None of the team had been by yet, but Dick didn’t hold it against them. Their ritual after missions usually involved a movie night, promptly followed by sleeping for twelve hours. And considering how this mission ended, he definitely doesn’t blame them for taking time to recover.

Which is why he was surprised to see Wally poke his head in the doorway, his bashful smile already lightening Dick’s mood.

“Can I come in? I brought food,” Wally said, and opened the door a little wider to reveal a bag of Vietnamese take-out from Dick’s favorite hole-in-the-wall in Keystone.

“Yeah,” Dick smiled, closing his work. “I’m starving.”

Wally sped in, making himself at home on Dick’s bed and patting the spot across from him, motioning Dick to join him on the bed. He climbed in and looked at the spread, then at Wally gratefully, which the other man didn’t see on account of the food stuffed in his mouth. They ate for a few quiet minutes before Dick broke the silence.

“I was thinking” he started, trying to avoid the elephant in the room.

Wally hummed. “About what?”

“Your case.”

“What about it?”

“I solved it,” Dick said casually.

Wally looked like he’d almost choked. “What? How did you-”

“Are you seriously about to ask me how I solved a case?” Dick asked flatly with an eyebrow raise.

“Okay, fair point,” Wally conceded, hands raised placatingly. “So tell me, Boy Wonder, what did you figure out?”

“Well, for starters,” Dick began, mildly excited to explain his thinking. “The drugs are so difficult for you guys to trace because they’ve been lacing them with small amounts of Fear Toxin,” he explained like it was obvious. “That explains all the bad reactions reported from them, and why they had all those crates in the warehouse.”

Wally blinked for a second, taking in the information, then asked, “But wouldn’t that have shown up on the analysis reports and tox screens?”

“Probably not, considering it’s a Gotham-native drug. There’s no reason you guys would know to screen for it,” he shrugged. “And if you didn’t know what it was, you’d never be able to pin it back to their suppliers.”

“So why add the Fear Toxin at all?” Wally tilted his head, processing. “Seems counterproductive, having so many of their buyers ending up detained.”

“My guess? They were using the toxin as a fail-safe; if you ever figured out what it was they were cutting it with, you’d probably pin it on Scarecrow, not their suppliers. But they’ve been hiring lackeys so fast, they got sloppy. Too much Fear Toxin in one batch, people were getting detained, which turned into a problem and moved them up on your priority list.”

“Well… who are their suppliers?” Wally asked through a mouthful of spring roll, knowing Dick would tell him regardless.

“Like I said, they were trying to deflect onto Scarecrow. But Crane’s been in Arkham for the past five months, so it couldn’t have been him pulling the strings. Your guy is Penguin, using stolen supplies from Scarecrow.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Wally questioned, but Dick knew he wasn’t doubting him.

“I recognized the same patterns from a drug case Batman was working on a little over a year ago. Not like a Gotham rogue to change up how they do things.”

“Oh, so everyone who lives in that city is stubborn as a mule,” Wally commented.

“My theory,” Dick said forcefully, ignoring the other. “Is that when B shut them down, Cobblepot turned to a different city to operate in under the radar.”

“Wow,” Wally said, shaking his head. “You just solved this case in a few hours when Barry and I couldn’t solve it in six months.”

“Well, I hadn’t thought about it until you brought food in,” Dick corrected with a smug smile.

Wally just laughed, “Of course.”

The two lapsed into another silence. This time it was broken by Wally. “So… Richard?” he asked, setting aside his food to look the other in the eyes.

“Ooh- call me Dick,” Dick grimaced, not liking the way his full name sounded coming out of Wally’s mouth.

“Dick,” Wally amended with a grin, and you would think Dick had hung the moon and stars in the sky with the way Wally had spoken his name with such reverence. Then, softly, “I know this isn’t my apartment, and it’s probably not how you planned to do it, but what did you wanna talk about?”

So they were having this conversation now.

“I… You probably already know, but-” Dick said, staring down at his noodles. He looked up when Wally grabbed his hand, his face a painting of sympathy. “My brother died.”

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Wally said, his other hand brushing a tear from Dick’s cheek.

“And I- I feel like it’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not-”

“It’s not, I know that,” Dick stressed, also setting his food out of the way. “But it feels like it is. I can’t stop thinking that maybe if I had been there, or if I was just nicer, I could have-”

“Babe,” Wally started, cutting off the Dick’s spiraling. “You can’t kill yourself on the maybes. I know you, and I know you tried. You did what you could, and that’s all that matters,” he tried reassuringly, his hand moving from Dick’s cheek to wrap his arms around his shoulders for a hug.

Dick could feel the tears dripping from his chin, and hated how much he’d cried in the past twenty-four hours. “I just- I feel like he died hating me,” he said, grasping Wally’s soft t-shirt in his hands. “I didn’t even get to go to the funeral!”

“What?” Wally asked sharply.

“He was- they had it while we were still in space. And Bruce didn’t tell me until a week after,” he said bitterly. Bruce apologized, but Dick had a feeling this sense of resentment would never truly go away. “He was alone and probably scared and I… didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Rob,” Wally started, pulling back so he could look the other in the eyes. “We can’t change the past. All we can do is keep going, and believe he knew you loved him and he loved you.” Dick didn’t say anything else to that, just a small nod, then moving to press his forehead against the other’s.

“It just feels so weird this time. With Mamă and Tati, I was just a little kid. But I'm older and stronger now and I could have saved him. It... doesn't even feel like he's gone.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Wally reassured.

“I don’t know how,” Dick whispered.

“That’s okay,” Wally said, moving the remaining food out of the way and shifting to lay on Dick's bed in a more comfortable position. Dick sniffled a bit, swiping at the streaks of tears on his face with his sleeve before flopping down next to the other.

“Why don’t you tell me about him?” Wally asked, trying to distract him as he let his fingers card through Dick’s hair.

He furrowed his brows. “Walls, you’ve met him, he-”

“Not Robin. Tell me about Jason.”

Dick hesitated, thinking about how he could sum up a person in so few words. “He’s… he was the funniest kid. Always said what was on his mind. Had the most colorful vocabulary I’ve ever heard,” he recalled how the kid could swear up a blue streak that made Dick cackle and Bruce shake his head. “He’d kick villains in the ribs while quoting Die Hard. One time he got a tooth knocked out on patrol and he just… stuck it back in place, like it was nothing,” he chuckled, but at the time, Dick was mildly horrified. “He liked reading and playing rooftop tag and those gross chili dogs you get from street vendors.”

“I like those,” Wally protested.

“They’re gross,” Dick deadpanned. “But- he always liked helping people. That was his favorite part about being Robin.” Dick thinks about the Catherine Todd Memorial Recovery Clinic or JT’s Cancer Research Fund or the Literature and Fine Arts fundraisers that Jason had helped Bruce set up and he smiles. “He even did it outside the mask. And he always loved to help Alfred in the kitchen.”

“And who’s Alfred?” Wally asked quietly.

“The butler. But he basically raised Bruce, and he’s like our grandpa,” he explained, and continued when Wally hummed in understanding. “But Jason, he was wicked smart. A major dork too. English class was his favorite, and he’d walk all around the manor loudly citing Shakespeare whenever he was bored.”

“I bet that was fun,” Wally snickered.

“Yeah, totally,” Dick said sarcastically. “He also loved playing pranks when he was bored. That little shit would put soy sauce in my coffee and malic acid in my cereal .”

“Oh, messing with food is uncalled for,” Wally said gravely.

“Right? And there were so many times he would hide my keys so I couldn’t leave until I agreed to take him train surfing.”

“Did you?” Wally asked, genuinely curious.

“Duh,” Dick yawned, feeling the weight of the past couple hours finally set in. “Anything to get Bruce’s blood pressure up. We were always doing stupid shit like that. One time I dared him to jump to the chandelier in the stairway, but he broke the banister and his collarbone. I felt so bad after, I stayed the weekend and we watched his favorite movies.”

Wally winced in sympathy, “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, then chuckled, “Made it through the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie, Scarface, and halfway through The Notebook before the pain meds knocked him out. It was the first time we really got to hang out completely outside of the masks.”

“That sounds nice.” Wally commented, sounding just as tired as Dick felt.

“It was,” Dick said, his voice wobbly. “I miss him.”

“I know,” Wally whispered. “I’m glad you told me.”

“Me too,” Dick replied. “Thank you for being here.”

“Anytime, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.”

And in the warm dark, feeling full, rested, and hopeful for the first time in weeks, Dick fell into a dreamless sleep.