Work Text:
“Psst.”
“Huh?” Dick Grayson lifts his head from his soft pillow, eyes still shut. “Wha’s goin’ on? Who goes there?” He reaches beneath his pillow to pull out one of the Batarangs he smuggled out of the Batcave. “M’warning you, robber. I’m armed and—” Here, he yawns, mouth opening wide enough for his jaw to crack. “—dangerous!”
“Oh, I’m sure.” A hand tousles his hair. It’s a very distinct way that makes him shoot up in bed and open his eyes. “Happy birthday, Dickie.”
“TIM!” Dick cries, flinging the Batarang against the wall (it buries itself in the wallpaper, whoops) so he can throw himself at his big brother. “YOU’RE HERE!”
“Yes,” Tim says with a laugh, wrapping an arm around him. Dick decides to wrap his legs around the man, clinging to him as baby koalas do with their moms. “And you’re about to wake the whole house if you keep screaming.”
“Who cares!” Dick leans back to beam at him. “What are you doing here?!”
“Didn’t you hear me, birdy?” Tim somehow manages to wrangle Dick off him and proceeds to drop him onto the bed. He bounces a couple of times, then vaults off to hug his brother again, his heart soaring with joy when Tim hugs him back. “I’m here for your birthday.”
“Oh, yeah!” Dick laughs. “I almost forgot about it!”
“Hm, are you sure? I could have sworn you were texting me every single day this entire month to remind me about it…” Tim cups the back of his neck, squeezing it in a way that reminds him of his mom. Dick shuts his eyes with a hum, leaning against his brother. “If you must know, I’m here to kidnap you.”
Dick gasps. “Are you finally freeing me from Bruce’s clutches and letting me live with you?” he asks hopefully, pouting when Tim openly laughs at him. “Hey, don’t be mean!”
“You’re funny,” Tim replies, ruffling his hair again. “Now, are you going to let me sneak you out or not?”
“Alfred won’t let you,” Dick points out.
“Alfred already knows I’m here,” Tim says, pulling away from Dick completely (dang!) to snag something off Dick’s desk chair. It’s one of those big, insulated bags that Alfred keeps around for ‘special occasions’ or whatever. Dick accidentally ruined a couple when he tried to have a picnic with his friends; who knew putting them near a fire pit could cause so much damage? “I have to bring you back by noon.”
“What time is it now?”
“Four.”
“HUH?” Dick quickly looks over at the alarm clock on his bedside table. Sure enough, the number four flickers on the screen… which means Tim woke him up before four. He feels both devastated and delighted by it. “Well, what for? Are we—” Here, Dick deliberately lowers his voice. “Are we going on a secret space mission, Tim? ‘Cause I’m ready to fight aliens!”
“My best friend is an alien,” Tim replies, moving over to Dick’s closet. “Does that mean you’re going to fight him?”
“Yes,” Dick grumbles. “He takes up too much of your time.”
Tim laughs, sets the bag down and opens his closet doors. Dick can hear him moving the hangers around, and soon, he’s tossing a few pieces of clothing onto the bed. After staring at them mournfully, Dick sighs very heavily and pointedly so Tim can hear and enters the adjoining bathroom to get through his morning business.
His brother isn’t in the room when he exits, so Dick changes out of his pajamas and into one of the outfits Tim set out for him. It’s a pair of his comfiest jeans with the flapjack octopus shirt Tim got him at the aquarium. His pants show more of his ankles this time, which delights Dick as it’s proof of his growth spurt.
“Okay,” Dick says while he’s pulling on a pair of bird-themed socks. He opens his bedroom door and steps out into the quiet hall, squinting at his brother. “Were you asleep?”
“I was resting my eyes.”
“That’s what Bruce said, too,” Dick says suspiciously. “And then I heard him snoring.”
Tim snorts, wrapping an arm around him. “Come on,” he says, steering him to the stairs. Dick stumbles a couple of times before balancing himself, keeping up with Tim’s steps. “I’ve got the car out front and everything. And you know what?”
“Chicken butt?” Dick guesses.
“Yes, always.” Tim gives him a nudge, and together, they descend the stairs. “Since it’s your birthday, Alfred gave me permission to give you some coffee.”
Dick gasps. “Really?” he says, eyes going wide when Tim nods. He refrains from cheering, knowing it’ll be too loud for the rest of the household, and hops over the rest of the stairs. While he poses, Dick manages a very tame and steady, “Yay.”
“I have two options here,” Tim says, holding up the insulated bag. Dick frowns at him, watching as Tim rolls his eyes, puts his arm through the strap, and dutifully claps. He nods and beams, reaching for the bag’s flap. “One made the way Bruce likes it, and the other is so full of sugar that it may result in a trip to the dentist.”
“I’ll give both a try,” Dick says, already thinking he might prefer the sweet one. He’ll never understand how Bruce can drink it without anything in it, not even those delicious sugar cubes Alfred puts out! “Will you drink the one I don’t like?”
Tim arches a brow. “And get all your germs?” he says. Dick grins up at him, causing Tim to sigh. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
Alfred is waiting for them by the front door when they reach the foyer. “Good morning, young masters,” he says, stepping away from the shoe rack. Dick grabs his sneakers and stuffs his feet into them, wiggling his toes around until they feel more comfortable. “I do hope you have a wonderful day full of a normal amount of mischief and mayhem.”
“A normal amount?” Dick sighs. “But that’s soooo boring, Alfie!”
“Don’t worry, Alfred,” Tim says, and he wraps an arm around Dick to tug him against his side. Yay! “I’ll keep this kid in check.”
“That’s what you said last time,” Alfred says dryly. “Now we have a new entrance to the Batcave.”
Dick grins, waving at the older man when Tim opens the door and guides him out the front door. He perks up when he sees a red car idling on Bruce’s long driveway and removes himself from Tim’s grasp to rush over to Tim’s car, throwing himself against the hood.
“Oh, Redbird!” he says happily. “I missed you!”
“You saw my car last week,” Tim points out, moving around Dick to go to the driver’s side. He opens the door and stares at him, so Dick turns his face away with a huff. “When you told me your stomach hurt and asked for ice cream the moment after I signed you out early from school.”
“You’re the one who got me the ice cream anyway,” Dick grumbles, slipping off Tim’s car to walk to the passenger side. He slides into his seat, watching as Tim does the same and places the insulated bag in the back. Tim also grabs Dick’s pink monkey blanket from there, which he eagerly takes and spreads over his legs.
“You act like my car doesn’t have heated seats,” Tim comments as he starts the car. He uses his knuckle to push a button on his center console, and Dick gasps excitedly when he hears the beginning notes to ‘Start of Something New.’ “Figured we’d start your birthday off right.”
“Thanks, Tim,” Dick tearfully says. “I know you don’t like High School Musical, but it means a lot to me to hear this in your car.”
“You’re welcome, birthday boy wonder. And you should be extra grateful because it’s all we’re going to hear during our trip,” Tim says and releases one of those sighs that make him sound like an old man.
(Dick told him so once; Tim blamed Damian for it, and when Dick went to Damian to ask about it, Damian let out a similar sound and didn’t even answer his question. Sometimes, Dick feels like he’ll never understand his eldest brothers, and maybe that’s something he has to try to accept.)
“And while we’re here, can you tell me where we’re going?”
Tim leans over to tuck the blanket around his thighs, giving him one of those smiles that makes his eyes crease at the corners. He’s nice enough to stay still when Dick reaches out to touch them, as he so often did with his parents growing up.
“New York,” Tim finally answers after Dick pulls back. “We’re going to New York.”
Dick gasps, clutching the blanket tightly. “YOU’RE TAKING ME TO THE NINTENDO STORE?” he exclaims.
“Stop trying to ruin your surprise,” Tim chides, tweaking his nose. Dick almost sneezes in his face as revenge, but he can’t force it out. Darn. “Take a nap, Dickie. I’ll wake you up when we get to New York.”
“Can we get a bagel?” Dick asks, hopeful.
“Yes, Dickie,” Tim says, ruffling his hair. “We can get a bagel.”
★★
“Hey, Dickie?”
“Five more minutes,” Dick grumbles, trying to tug the blanket over his head. He accidentally bangs his elbow against something, which makes him go “Ow!” and serves to wake him up further. Dick frowns as he sits up, but when he opens his eyes, he quickly realizes that he’s not in his room. No, he’s in a car with Tim, who stares at him with an arched brow. “Huh?”
“What kind of bagel do you want?”
Dick blinks at him and repeats himself, “Huh?”
Tim releases one of those sighs that tell Dick he’s feeling fond of him, and like always, it’s paired with a slight curl of his lip. “What kind of bagel do you want?” he repeats, gesturing out the window. Dick swivels his head to see that they’re parked in front of a little shop. “I’m going to run in and get some.”
“Can’t I come with you?” Dick pleads, clasping his hands together and shaking them toward the man. “Pleaseeeeeeeee?”
Tim taps his finger against the wheel, looking thoughtful. “Only if you behave,” he eventually says, and Dick releases a cheer… only to register the statement a moment later.
“I always behave, Tim!” Dick replies, frowning. “It’s not my fault you listen to Damian’s lies!”
“So, it wasn’t you who broke the chandelier in the library?” Tim says, exiting the car before Dick can even come up with a response.
He sputters a few times before frantically tossing the blanket off him to follow Tim out, making sure the door shuts behind him. “Okay, just because I broke the other chandeliers in the manor doesn’t mean I broke that one!” he says after hearing the car beep a couple of times. Dick glances at it curiously, seeing a flashing light in the center console—security activated. He kind of hopes someone tries to steal it so he can watch the car fire off lasers. “This is… discrimination! Against me!”
“Uh-huh,” Tim says, tone wry. He nudges Dick toward the door, and Dick huffs, rushing to the entrance to open the door before his brother. “That’s what you always say, Dickie.”
When Dick picks out his bagels (garlic and everything for him, while Tim gets plain ol’ salt), Tim also grabs a box of every kind in the shop for the rest of the family because he’s nice like that.
Tim typically doesn’t allow anyone to eat in his car (even though Dick has seen him eat his acai bowls in there, but whatever), so Dick gets to sit on the hood to eat. He grabs the garlic one first, loving how much cream cheese the guy put in the middle.
“Are we gonna see the Statue of Liberty?” Dick asks through a mouthful of bagel. When Tim gives him a pointed look, not unlike Alfred, he quickly chews and swallows the bite, wiping crumbs off his mouth. “Sorry! Are we? ‘Cause I already saw it on my last field trip.”
“Yes, I know,” Tim says, taking a sip of the nasty black coffee. Dick wrinkles his nose and goes back to his deliciously sweet one. “I was there.”
“Oh, yeah.” Dick laughs. “I totally forgot!”
After several weeks of pleading on Dick’s part to accompany him on the field trip, and ignoring Damian’s offers to chaperone, Tim finally agreed. He joined Dick’s class under his usual public alias, Alvin Draper, and whispered all sorts of fun facts into Dick’s ear. It almost got him in trouble with the teacher, only because he couldn’t stop giggling.
“Aw, man,” Dick says when he stuffs the last piece of bagel into his mouth, glumly staring at his wrapper. “I’m still hungry…”
“You got another one, remember?” Tim says as he passes over a plain brown paper bag. Dick can’t help but jump in place after snatching it from him, pulling out the everything bagel, unwrapping it, and immediately taking a bite. “Don’t eat too much, though. You need to save room for whatever else you want today.”
“Wha’ that mean?” Dick asks
“You’ll see,” Tim says in that cryptic way of his, causing Dick to huff and nearly choke on his bagel.
★★
“So, I’m gonna need you to put this on,” Tim says at some point during the rest of the drive, tossing one of Bruce’s blindfolds onto Dick’s lap. Dick groans and throws himself back against the seat. “Don’t be so dramatic, Dick. They’re not that bad.”
“You’re not the one who had to wear it the first time you went down to the Cave,” Dick grumbles, flinging an arm out to blindly smack Tim. He brushes his fingers over the man’s hoodie sleeve instead. “Mr. Tim, ‘I figured out Batman and Blackbird’s identity when I was nine,’ Drake.”
“It’s not my fault Blackbird has a distinct way of flipping someone a hundred-and-fifty pounds bigger than him over his shoulder,” Tim replies. “And it’s also not my fault Bruce didn’t train Damian on how to handle assholes at galas. Even though the guy did deserve to be flipped on his ass, it made it easy for me to connect the dots, and that’s on him.”
“Does Damian know it’s his fault?” Dick asks curiously.
“Yup! Honestly, that might be part of the reason why he hated me so much when we first met.” Tim points to the blindfold still on his lap without looking at him. “Come on, Dickie. Don’t make me use my Batman voice.”
“All that time you spend with Damian is making you lame,” Dick grumbles, carefully fitting the blindfold over his eyes. “You might lose a sticker ‘cause of it.”
“… Sticker?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dick says quickly, fastening the cloth behind his head. It feels weird to lose his sight, even if it’s only temporary, so Dick closes his eyes completely and instead focuses on the sound of the High School Musical 2 soundtrack. “Do you think Damian would watch these movies with me?”
“If you ask nicely, yes,” Tim replies. His voice sounds much louder now that Dick is using more of his other senses. Double weird! “Or make him feel guilty, I guess. I brought up how he stabbed me and managed to get him to sit through all the Star Wars movies for an entire weekend.”
“Wait,” Dick says. “Wasn’t that an accident?”
“Yes, and as Damian’s little brother, it’s my right to hold it over his head until I get everything I can out of him.” A pause. “And his wallet.”
“Can I do it too?”
“You don’t need my permission to bother Damian.”
“Yay!”
Dick falls into another doze as the drive continues, unsure of his destination, but certain of his safety with Tim at the wheel.
(And even outside the car, too. Dick knows Tim would dive into the depths of Hell for him, if possible. He basically did the same thing when he sought out the Court of Owls to free Dick from their clutches, and again, when Two-Face tried to beat Dick to death. Dick thinks the man might still be recovering from his shattered kneecaps.)
“Okay, Dickie,” Tim says after the car slows to a stop. It feels like they’re on softer terrain, which confuses Dick because New York is mostly concrete. “We’re here.”
“Can I take off my blindfold now?” Dick asks.
“Nope.”
“Ugh, come onnnn, Tim! It’s been forever!”
“I promise you, only thirty minutes have passed since I told you to put on that blindfold.”
“What? Seriously?” Dick stops fiddling with the damn thing and frowns, drumming his hands over his thighs. “Feels like it was two hours…”
Tim snorts, and Dick hears him exit the car. He’s not alone for long, and soon, Tim is helping him out, keeping a hand on his arm when he takes a few steps forward. It helps Dick realize that he’s correct—he’s standing on a mixture of dirt and gravel.
“Where are we?” Dick wonders, trying to take off his blindfold. Tim bats his hands away and continues steering him in a general direction. “Tiiiiiiiiimmm, come onnnnnnn.”
“What happened to everything Bruce and I taught you?” Tim asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Come on, Boy Wonder—put those detective skills to work. Consider it practice!”
“I can’t believe you’re making me do work on my birthday,” Dick grumbles, nearly tripping over his feet when Tim abruptly stops them. Thankfully, Tim does keep him upright, so Dick feels less annoyed by it. “Fine…”
He rolls his shoulders back after Tim’s hand slips off his shoulders. Dick tips his head from side to side before keeping himself still to listen to what’s around him. Beside him, there’s the crunch of grass when Tim shifts, and in the distance, Dick can hear faint music, along with machinery. He sniffs the air, frowning when he smells… fried foods, hot peanuts, and cotton candy, all very particular scents only found at—
“Did you bring me to a circus?” he asks.
“Yup!”
Dick starts when he feels hands on his head, but he quickly realizes that it’s just Tim taking the blindfold off him. He raises a hand to block out the daylight, letting his vision adjust, and when he lowers it, Dick spots an immediately recognizable sign.
It’s something he grew up with, something as familiar as his mother’s eyes and father’s smile, which Dick sees in the mirror every day.
“You—” Dick turns toward his brother, overwhelmed. “You brought me to Haly’s Circus?”
“Yes, Dickie.” Although Tim’s expression gains a hint of concern, the warmth never leaves his eyes. “I saw that they were going to be in New York, so I called ahead to set up a meeting between you and Zitka.” Here, Tim carefully rests a hand on one of Dick’s shoulders. Dick doesn’t know if he’s breathing right now. “I hope that’s okay… I know how much you miss her.”
“Tim,” Dick says, voice cracking. He can’t even be embarrassed about it, not when he’s so overwhelmed with love and appreciation for his brother. Instead of trying to put it into words, Dick throws himself at Tim, wrapping his arms around the man and burying his face in his chest.
Tears start to leak out, but like always, Tim is there to keep him together. He returns the embrace, curling around Dick and holding him tightly. It makes him feel small, as if the years between meeting Tim at the circus and standing in front of the same one now never passed; it makes him feel protected, like Tim is shielding him from all the hurt in the world, leaving him unscathed.
“It’s alright,” Tim says, echoing the words he said so long ago—when Dick was lost in his grief and anger, wanting revenge for his parents’ deaths but unsure of how to achieve it. “It’s alright, Dick. I’ve got you.”
And like before, Dick clings to him while he cries.
★★
Although Dick sees some new faces (and stalls) as he walks along the dirt path, he spies plenty of familiar faces. It’s enough for him to break away from his brother to greet them with very enthusiastic hugs, giggling when they draw Tim into the embrace as well.
One of the fried food vendors gives him some fried ice cream (his favorite!), refusing any payment from Tim when he tries to give it. Dick practically skips from place to place, feeling a mixture of joy and sorrow. Sure, it’s nice to be here, but sometimes, when there’s a lull between conversations, Dick can’t help but remember a time when he did the same thing as a (younger) child… with his parents by his side.
“Tim?” Dick asks as they walk over to one of the larger tents. He stops, looking up at Tim when he does the same. “Do you think Mom and Dad would be happy?”
Tim looks thoughtful. That’s one of the things Dick loves so much about Tim—he’s always willing to think things over, even when most questions don’t even need it. “Well,” he says after a while, leaning over to tweak Dick’s nose. Dick fake sneezes in response. “John and Mary were always happy if you were, Dickie. Because they loved you, and they wanted what was best for you. So, yes. I think they would be.”
“Yeah,” Dick quietly says, nibbling on the remainder of his fried ice cream. He ends up finishing the rest of it, blinking back tears, and leans against his brother. “Being here was nice, huh?”
“It was, Dickie,” Tim replies, tone gentle. When he puts a hand on Dick’s head, Dick can’t help but push up into the touch. “Some of my favorite years.”
“… Really?”
“Really.” Tim taps the side of his forehead, so Dick faces him properly. His older brother stares at him for a very long time. Then, he cups Dick’s face and gives him one of those smiles that tells Dick he’s feeling fond of Dick. It’s the same expression his parents wore; the same one his family currently wears whenever Dick talks to them. “Meeting you and your parents was the best thing that could ever happen to me. I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
“Oh,” Dick says, feeling more than a little emotional. Some ice cream drips down his fingers, probably getting on Tim’s pants, but Dick doesn’t care. “Me too, Tim.” He sniffs, throwing his arms around his brother and likely smearing ice cream across his back. Oops. “Thanks for being in my life.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that, Dickie.” Dick feels Tim place a kiss upon his head. “I love you, little brother. Happy birthday.”
Dick squeezes him tighter. “I love you too.”
After helping Tim wipe ice cream off him and finishing what he has left, Dick follows Tim to the tent. He can still hear music around him, as well as the distant chatter of people. They do stop for some cotton candy at Dick’s request, although Dick makes sure Tim eats most of it to feel less bad about spending Tim’s money.
“Are we going to see Mr. Haly now?” he asks, tossing the stick in the trash. “I wonder if he’ll recognize me…”
“Dick, you haven’t changed that much since the last time he saw you.”
“That’s not true! I’m almost five feet tall now!”
Tim chuckles, grabbing one of the tent flaps. “Well, I think there’s someone else who wants to see you first,” he says.
Dick frowns, peering at his brother curiously. “What do you mean?” he asks curiously, trying to come up with an answer. It hits him a moment later, and Dick can’t help but grin in excitement. “No way! Really?”
“Really,” Tim says with a nod before tipping his head to the side.
“YES!” Dick rushes into the tent, which is void of any people. There are a bunch of haystacks scattered around, and even barrels and boxes full of things stacked in corners. However, Dick only gives these cursory glances since his attention is fixed on the giant elephant in the center of the area.
“Zitka!” he exclaims when he nears, smiling wider when he sees the elephant turn toward him. A moment passes, then she raises her trunk and flaps her ears, releasing a trumpeting sound that seems like it’s filled with delight. His eyes burn with the threat of tears, but none fall as he runs over to his first-ever best friend. “Oh, Zitka. I missed you so much…”
Zitka lowers her head, and Dick throws himself forward to wrap himself around her trunk. His arms don’t fit all the way, like when he was little, but that doesn’t matter to Dick. She releases a soft squeak, almost unheard, before Dick feels the lower part of her trunk brush over his trunk and ear, drawing a laugh out of him.
“Tickles!” he says, leaning back to look at the elephant. Even though she’s grown since Dick last saw her, she seems happy and healthy, which is what matters most to Dick. “I really missed you, Zitka.” He looks over his shoulder to see Tim waiting by some of the haystacks, hands tucked into his jacket pocket. “You wanna know something?”
The elephant makes another trumpeting noise, although it sounds more questioning this time (to Dick, at least, who has always been well-versed in Zitka’s sounds).
“I’m happy with where I’m at,” he tells her. Dick lowers himself onto the ground to lean against one of her legs, smiling when Zitka starts rubbing the end of her trunk over his head—the way she used to do when he was much smaller. “Living at the manor isn’t so bad. I have brothers, and a sister, and I get to see Tim all the time…” He turns to press his cheek against her skin, shutting his eyes. “But I sure do miss it here. I miss mom and dad most of all, and I especially miss you.”
Zitka blows air in his face, and even though Dick does laugh about it, he thinks that’s her way of agreeing with him.
★★
(Mr. Haly gives them a tour of everything new and even lets him watch a couple of the shows he added. Even better, Tim lets Dick hold his hand throughout the whole tour, probably because he knows how hard it is for Dick to see everything look both familiar and different.
Dick even gets the chance to work through one of the old routines he used to do with his parents. Flying feels much lonelier, but when he sneaks a peek down below, all Dick can see is his brother smiling up at him while he claps. It soothes some of that ache, and afterward, when he finally completes his quadruple flip for Tim, he doesn’t say anything about the additional tears Dick sheds.
Nearing the end of his visit, Mr. Haly takes him to Dick’s old trailer and presents him with a box full of his parents’ things. It includes their old costumes, pictures, some trinkets his mom liked to collect, and more. Dick doesn’t even get a chance to look through them all because when he stops out of that trailer, he sees everyone who knows him gathered around a cake, ready to sing to him—just like when he was little.
When Dick makes his wish, all he wants is for this joy to last forever.)
★★
“Thanks for taking me to see Zitka,” Dick says as he stares out the window, trying to fight a wave of sleepiness. He knows he’s failing because every moment between blinks seems to get longer and longer. “I didn’t realize how much I missed her ‘til I saw her again.” He yawns, tightening his arms around the overly large Furret plush in his arms. “And thanks for taking me to the Nintendo Store. That was fun, too.”
“You’re welcome, Dickie,” Tim replies, voice warm. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Dick closes his eyes for a moment—resting them, as some might say. “I’m naming my Phanpy Zitka,” he says, blindly grabbing the smaller plush off his lap and holding her up. “Tim, when did you start playing Pokémon?”
“When the Johto games came out. My Dad bought me a copy of Gold to keep me distracted at a gala.”
“Wow,” Dick says, amazed and half-asleep. “You’re old.”
Tim chuckles. It sounds nice and comforting, and it almost sends Dick straight into an actual sleep—but, no! He can’t! Not when he’s still talking to his brother! “You’re a funny kid, Dickie,” he says. Dick hears him shift, and soon, the sound of High School Musical 3 fills the car. “You wanna know something? I loved Gold so much that I made my dad buy me the previous games. Only, he didn’t realize it was the same generation, so I ended up with Red, Blue, Yellow… and Green, after he stopped in Japan for work.”
“Tha’s cool.” Dick yawns again, forcing his eyes open to glance at his brother. “Tim?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you again.” Dick ducks his head, petting a hand over Furret’s head. “Going out on my birthday reminded me of all the times my mom and dad did the same.” His vision blurs, and Dick doesn’t bother blinking away the tears, letting himself feel the sorrow, letting it mix in with the nostalgia and happiness. “It made me feel close to them.”
“Good. I’m glad.” When the car rolls to a stop at a red light, Dick feels a hand tousle his hair. He barely manages to keep his eyes open to glance at his brother, seeing the man gaze at him with another one of those fond smiles. It makes Dick feel especially loved. “Happy birthday, Wildcat.”
Dick groans, covering his face with his Furret. “No!” he wails. “That sounds so lame!”
“Hey, you’re the one who loves High School Musical! I thought it’d be fitting.” He raises the volume as ‘I Want It All’ starts playing, which Dick can’t help but sing along to, despite his embarrassment. “Get some sleep, Dickie. You’re going to need all your energy for your birthday party.” A pause. “And your friends.”
“What!?” Dick stares at his brother with wide eyes. “How’d you convince Bruce to let them come over? They don’t even know my secret identity yet!”
Tim chuckles, placing both hands on the steering wheel when he briefly leans forward to squint at something. “I had the same problem with Bruce,” he replies. “Actually, I was allowed to reveal my face with a fake name, but that became such a problem with my friends because I knew basically everything about them.” He leans back, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I reminded him that you’re probably more willing to not listen to him, and how we’re already so intertwined with the hero community that nothing would go wrong if you told them.”
“Thanks, Tim,” Dick says, beaming. “Seriously, thank you! I—” Suddenly overcome with emotion (yet again), he sniffs and rubs his eyes with a fist. “They’re my best friends, my team. I trust them with a lot of things, and it sucked that I couldn’t tell them my biggest secret.” He looks out the window, frowning. “I mean, I knew why I couldn’t, and how it would lead to the reveal of all of your identities, too, but it still sucked.”
“I know,” Tim says, with a note of sympathy in his voice. Dick settles back against the seat, and now that the shock is wearing off, he’s starting to feel sleepy again. “We’re meeting them in the Cave first. If you get nervous, I can reveal mine with you.”
“Okay.” Dick closes his eyes. “Were you nervous about it?”
“I was, yeah. We were already dealing with some trust issues on my part because I wouldn’t tell or show them who I was, but once I was able to give them my real name, things got easier.” Tim hums. “Your friends are good kids, which was another reason why Bruce agreed.”
“Thanks for helping.”
“Yup. Don’t forget to thank Bruce, too.”
“I will.” Dick yawns. “An’ I’ll give him a big hug.”
“He’ll definitely like that.” Tim huffs a laugh. “Sleep, Dickie. I’ll wake you up before we get home.”
And as Dick drifts off, he can’t help but think that it might be one of the best birthdays he’s ever had.
★★
Later, halfway through his birthday party, Dick rushes up to his room under the guise of needing to use the bathroom.
He makes sure to shut the door behind him before going to the back of his closet, where he finds a chart with all his siblings’ names on it. Dick peers at it closely, nods once, and grabs a sparkly golden star sticker from the booklet nailed beside it. After mentally reviewing the day’s events, Dick grabs an additional one and places both on Tim’s line.
It takes a bit of time, mostly because there’s already a lot of stickers on his row, more than any of his other siblings, but that’s only because Dick has been with Tim longer.
Someone knocks on his door, causing Dick to scramble to hide his chart behind some jackets.
“Yes?” he calls out when he shuts the closet behind him. The knob turns, and one of his best friends peeks inside, causing him to grin. “Oh, hi, Wally! Come in!”
“Hi, Dick,” the speedster replies and steps into Dick’s bedroom. He glances around with wide eyes, his green party hat askew on his messy hair. “You know, even after seeing it all and hearing it from your mouth, I’m still having a hard time believing that you’re rich.”
“It’s not really me,” Dick says wryly, walking over to his friend. He drapes himself over Wally’s shoulders, laughing when Wally nearly stumbles. “Bruce is the rich one. And Tim!”
“… Which one is Tim again?”
“Come on, Wally! Tim is Shrike! The best one!”
“Well, you have a lot of siblings, Rob. It’s kind of hard to keep track of ‘em all, especially after only learning their names today.” Wally wraps an arm around him, keeping him steady. “And on that note, I’m speaking for the rest of the team when I say that it’s nice to know yours, too.”
Dick hugs him briefly before dragging him out of the room. “Come on!” he says excitedly. “Let’s go and play my favorite game!”
“Which is…?”
“Put the party hat on Nightwing!” Dick stops by the stairs and releases Wally to climb onto the bannister. “Well, you now know him as Damian—the grumpy one with green eyes.” He starts sliding down, laughing when he sees Tim standing at the bottom, looking amused. “Winner gets a hundred bucks from Tim!”
“And when did I agree to this?” Tim questions after Dick hops off and lands at the bottom, striking a pose and all. And because Tim is the best, he starts clapping without needing any reminders. “What’s it for?”
“Bothering Damian,” Dick cheerfully answers, throwing himself at his brother. Like always, Tim catches him, so Dick hangs off him, refusing to let go even when Wally finally makes it downstairs. For a speedster, Wally can sometimes be so slow. “You’ve got the money for it, so it’s fine. And it’ll get you another sticker.”
“Again, what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dick says, pointing a finger over Tim’s shoulder. “Onward! We have a brother to bother!”
“Don’t you want cake?”
Dick opens his mouth, shuts it, glances at his rapidly nodding friend, and mulls it over. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I guess you have a point, Tim. We can work on it after my cake.”
★★
Much to Dick’s consternation, Donna ends up winning the money.