Chapter Text
Richard "Dick" Grayson
The first lie Dick Grayson ever told Batman was when he was nine years old.
Bruce had asked if he was okay.
Dick had smiled.
"Yeah."
Bruce had accepted it.
That had been the easiest lie he'd ever told.
...
Years later...
The Justice League Watchtower
Dick was laughing.
Not fake laughing.
Actual laughing.
The kind that bent him over slightly while Flash complained about something Green Arrow had done during poker night.
"...and then Ollie had the audacity to say I cheat."
"You absolutely do," Dick replied.
"I strategically reinterpret the rules."
"That's cheating."
"It is innovation."
Around them the League continued as normal.
Clark talked quietly with Diana.
Barry and Hal argued.
Bruce stood in the corner pretending he wasn't listening to every conversation simultaneously.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing suspicious.
Exactly as planned.
Dick checked his watch.
Four seconds.
Three.
Two.
One.
The Watchtower alarms began screaming.
Red lights flooded every hallway.
Every League communicator exploded with simultaneous reports.
"Emergency! Coast City attack!"
"Atlantean border breach!"
"Central City reactor failure!"
"Unknown magical incursion in Fawcett City!"
"Apokoliptian signatures detected over Paris!"
Chaos.
Immediate.
Absolute.
League members were already moving.
"What the—"
"Split up!"
"Superman with me!"
"Batman—"
Dick didn't move.
He simply watched.
Watched Bruce immediately begin assigning teams.
Watched Hal head toward Coast City.
Watched Arthur divert to Atlantis.
Watched Barry vanish.
Watched Diana launch herself toward Paris.
Thirty-two seconds.
That was all it took.
The Watchtower emptied.
Leaving behind...
Batman.
Dick.
And one unconscious Martian.
Bruce turned.
His eyes narrowed.
"...You're not moving."
"No."
"You have an emergency."
"I don't."
Bruce looked at him for exactly half a second.
Then—
"Oracle."
Silence.
"...Oracle?"
No answer.
Bruce's expression changed.
Not panic.
Recognition.
Dick smiled.
"...Took you longer than I expected."
Bruce was already accessing Watchtower systems.
Nothing responded.
Communications.
Offline.
Teleporters.
Offline.
Surveillance.
Offline.
Security.
Offline.
Every screen went black.
Then one message appeared.
GOOD EVENING, BATMAN.
Bruce froze.
Dick didn't.
He walked over to the main console and leaned against it casually.
"You know what the funny thing is?"
Bruce slowly turned.
Dick continued.
"Everyone assumes manipulation has to be malicious."
"..."
"They're wrong."
Bruce stared.
"You manipulated the League."
"No."
Dick grinned.
"I manipulated you."
Another screen activated.
A map.
Five blinking dots.
One in Atlantis.
One in Star City.
One in Central City.
One in Gateway City.
One...
Already inside the Batcave.
Bruce's heartbeat actually increased.
Dick noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"The attacks..."
"Weren't real."
Bruce didn't respond.
"...The emergency calls."
"Wally."
"The magical signatures."
"Donna."
"Atlantean breach."
"Garth."
"Coast City."
"Roy."
"The Batcave."
Dick's smile softened.
"Me."
Bruce's voice was dangerously quiet.
"...Why."
Dick looked almost offended.
"You really haven't figured it out?"
Bruce didn't answer.
Dick sighed dramatically.
"I expected better detective work."
Then...
Every monitor changed.
Security footage.
Batcave.
Current.
Bruce watched...
Nightwing walking through the Cave.
Except...
Nightwing was standing beside him.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"...Impossible."
Dick chuckled.
"Really?"
The Nightwing on the screen reached the giant penny.
Pressed...
Nothing.
Then reached behind it.
Pressed somewhere else.
Bruce went perfectly still.
"...No."
The hidden compartment opened.
A compartment Bruce had never built.
Inside...
Hundreds of files.
Old.
Ancient.
Handwritten.
Every Robin.
Every mission.
Every psychological profile.
Every contingency.
Every weakness.
Bruce looked at Dick.
"...You made a secret compartment."
"No."
Dick corrected gently.
"I found yours."
Bruce blinked.
"My what?"
Dick's smile disappeared.
"The one your father made."
Silence.
"...Excuse me?"
"Oh."
Dick laughed.
"I forgot."
"You didn't know."
Bruce's world tilted.
"My father is dead."
"Yes."
"He died when I was eight."
"Yes."
"So how—"
Dick interrupted.
"Alfred knew."
Bruce stopped breathing.
...
Halfway across the world—
Roy Harper casually walked into Queen Industries.
No disguise.
Receptionist smiled.
"Mr. Harper."
"Morning."
"You have a meeting."
"I know."
He stepped into the elevator.
Pressed the basement.
No one questioned him.
Why would they?
Roy Harper belonged there.
Everyone believed that.
Because he'd spent six years making sure they did.
...
Atlantis.
Garth stood before the Council.
"They're lying."
The council members frowned.
"About?"
"The prophecy."
Silence.
One elder slowly stood.
"...Who told you?"
Garth smiled.
"No one."
"I wrote it."
...
Central City.
Wally West was running.
Not fast.
Slow.
Because this wasn't about speed.
He stopped outside Iron Heights.
Security cameras followed him.
Every guard saw him.
Every single one.
They all waved.
"Morning, Flash!"
He smiled back.
"Morning."
Then...
Every camera looped simultaneously.
Every guard kept smiling.
None of them noticed Wally never actually entered.
Because he'd already left.
Six minutes ago.
...
Gateway City.
Donna Troy walked into a museum.
The curator greeted her warmly.
"Miss Troy!"
"The artifact arrived."
"Wonderful."
She smiled.
"I'd like to authenticate it."
The curator nodded eagerly.
"Of course."
Donna looked down at the ancient Greek relic.
Then quietly whispered—
"I'm sorry."
She switched it.
Perfectly.
No one noticed.
Not because she was sneaky.
Because everyone trusted Donna Troy.
That had always been her greatest weapon.
...
Back on the Watchtower...
Batman finally spoke.
"...You've all been planning something."
Dick tilted his head.
"Haven't we always?"
"No."
Dick actually laughed.
"Oh, Bruce."
His blue eyes weren't cold.
That would have been easier.
They were fond.
Patient.
Like someone explaining something obvious to a child.
"We've been planning everything."
Another screen activated.
This one showed old footage.
The Titans.
Teenagers.
Laughing.
Training.
Growing up.
Bruce frowned.
"...Why are you showing me this?"
Dick's voice became quieter.
"Because this..."
The footage sped up.
Every joke.
Every conversation.
Every prank.
Every argument.
Every mission.
Every accidental bump.
Every hug.
Every game.
Every birthday.
Every road trip.
Every movie night.
"..."
"...wasn't random."
Bruce watched.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
Patterns emerged.
Wally always sat facing exits.
Roy always joked immediately before serious conversations.
Donna always asked three questions before agreeing to plans.
Garth never interrupted unless something mattered.
Dick...
Always looked around the room before smiling.
Not once.
Not ever.
Just enough to check where everyone was.
Bruce stared.
Dick continued quietly.
"We were children."
"We built a language."
Bruce's eyes widened.
"No..."
"We grew up speaking in code."
Every laugh.
Every glance.
Every sentence.
Every interruption.
Everything.
Code.
Not hidden.
Simply invisible.
Because no one had ever thought to look.
Dick smiled one last time.
"You taught us how to prepare for everything."
His smile became something almost sad.
"The mistake..."
"...was assuming we only prepared for our enemies."