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Dick let out a sigh of relief as he finally arrived at his apartment fire escape. It had been a long patrol. Actually, it had been a long week. Long month if he was done telling the truth. Long couple years if he was really telling the truth.
It had been three months since he had returned home from the absolute shit show that was his nine months undercover at Spyral. A full year since he had been strapped to a death machine and forced to sw—maybe best if he didn’t think about that.
Part of him knew that he wasn’t going to be welcomed back with open arms, but he had hoped—prayed really—that his family would come around after a couple weeks. After the initial shock of him being alive had passed he had hoped that they would all be back together as one big happy family.
Sure, he had lied to them about being dead. Even though that was really Bruce.
Sure, he left without looping any of them into what was happening. Even though that was really Bruce.
Sure, he had come back a little rougher around the edges. He couldn’t directly blame Bruce for that one, but he could damn well try.
But it had been months with nothing more than frosty glares and the occasional conversation when someone was in real desperate need of backup. Jason had punched him the first time he had seen him and everyone else was keeping their distance.
So, sue Dick for spending the whole patrol just wanting to go to back hom-to his apartment. Dick didn’t know what home was anymore. It wasn’t this shitty apartment that was for sure. But he also couldn’t say it was the manor.
Maybe Dick never really had a home.
He slid the window open and with a lot less grace than he normally had managed to squeeze his way in and make his way to the living room.
“With the way that the underground has been talking about you recently, I’m surprised you’re still upright.”
Within seconds Dick had a gun drawn and pointed at the man sitting on his couch in the dark. A gun that Bruce very much did not know about thank you very much.
Dick forced himself to relax and flip the safety back on as he recognized the voice. “What are you doing here Slade?” Even to himself, his voice sounded monotonous and defeated.
Instead of answering him, Slade reached over towards the string of the lamp and pulled it like a goddamn Bond villain. With the warm light now bathing over the room Dick could see that Slade was in his normal Deathstroke attire but there didn’t seem to be any blood splatters across the orange and black. Which either meant he didn’t come from a job, or it hadn’t been a particularly rough job.
Dick watched as the mercenary’s gaze flickered towards the gun Dick was now pointing towards the ground and a smirk slowly took over Slade’s face.
“I see you finally upgraded to real weapons.” There was no mistaking the curiosity in his voice.
“You and I both know I could throw you out of here with or without this.” Dick snarked back as he moved to set the gun on the coffee table. He sat down in the chair across from Slade and began the process of taking his gloves and mask off. “I already asked you once Slade, what are you doing here?”
Slade leaned back in his chair and took a moment to study the man in front of him. They had always had an odd relationship. From years of Slade trying to convince the bird to join him to the mutual respect they always toed the line of. Slade had kept his tabs on Dick over the years, but he had never seen him like this.
This wasn’t the young angry Robin that he had known. Nor was it the angsty and probably depressed man that he had met on the streets of Bludhaven years ago. No this was something else.
He wasn’t lying when he mentioned the underground of Gotham. There had been more than a handful of criminals reporting more brutality from the blue bird than ever heard of. Apparently the kid had spent the night taking down a whole trafficking ring on his own. Slade wondered where the rest of the birds and bats were. It wasn’t like them to let one of their own journey so far from the nest for so long.
Instead of saying any of that, Slade simply shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to welcome you back to life.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie, Slade was both intrigued and maybe a little happy that Dick hadn’t actually been dead. He should’ve known, it wasn’t like any of the Gotham vigilantes to stay dead. Or anyone in Gotham for that matter.
Slade caught Dick’s smile faltering slightly before it was plastered back on his face. Ever the performer. Slade knew there was more to the story about his death being faked then what he had been told. But that was a problem for another day.
“Well, here I am, alive and kicking. Feel free to leave now.” Dick motioned to the door with a raised arm. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Slade chuckled in response. “Maybe I also have a proposition for you.” Dick raised an eyebrow in response, imploring the man to continue. Slade thought it was interesting that he wasn’t immediately shot down.
“The Justice League wants my help on a mission. Something about me being one of the only people capable of getting the information they need, but we all know they just don’t want to get their hands dirty. I want you to help me.”
Dick tilted his head slightly as if to study the man in front of him. “Why are you willing to help them? What’s in it for you?”
“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.” In reality, they had offered Slade a little bit of clemency when it came to some of the less violent crimes he had committed. And it was starting to get a little tiring to be running from the League every other week.
Dick snorted but didn’t call him out on his obvious bullshit. “Why me?”
Slade sighed but leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “Because you kid, are one of the few people I can work with, and I can’t do this job alone.” Slade hesitated for a second before continuing. “You’re also this close to doing more than putting a street rat into a coma.”
Dick clenched his jaw and turned his head slightly. A couple of days ago Dick had been in the middle of clearing out a hideout for known child traffickers. He hadn’t gone in with the intention of hurting any of them beyond the point of no return, but no matter how hard he tried to restrain himself he couldn’t.
It wasn’t something he had to think about in Spyral. With them he did whatever he had to finish the mission. Dick had done things he wasn’t proud of. He had done things he refused to put into the mission reports, and he had done things he would take to his grave. But he didn’t regret any of it. It had been about survival. It was all necessary for his survival.
But he hadn’t realized how much of it would stay with him. How he had to carry a piece on him to feel natural. How he had to fight to not stand at attention any time he was in the same room as anyone who could be deemed his superior. How there were more knives and guns strewn across his apartment than ever before.
“I’m fine.” Dick bit out still refusing to look back towards Slade.
“I’m not judging you kid. But this isn’t the way that you want to be living your life.” Slade responded softly. It was weird to hear the mercenary’s voice with such a kind lilt to it.
“And how should I be living Slade? By working with you?” Dick questioned sharply.
Slade shrugged. “I’m giving you a chance to take down a bunch of bad people on a League sanctioned mission. It’s better than whatever sad excuse for plans you had this weekend.”
Dick took a second to consider it. On one hand he knew that Slade was right. If he kept going like he was, he was going to end up killing people on the streets who didn’t deserve to die and that held the risk of good ole Batman coming after him.
He was surprised that the dark knight hadn’t made his opinions on Dick’s recent activities known. Maybe he really was done with him.
On the other hand, though, Dick knew if he went with Slade he would have to interact with the League to get all the logistics down for whatever the op was. And Dick wasn’t sure he was interested in them seeing Nightwing fight by Deathstroke’s side right about now. So, Dick was apprehensive, but he wasn’t totally against it.
Maybe it would do him some good to get out of his apartment for something that wasn’t patrol or being berated by one of the other bats and birds.
“I wouldn’t be able to go as Nightwing.” Dick stated.
Slade returned to his leaned back position on the couch knowing that he had gotten what he came for. “That’s perfectly fine with me. But which of your various masks are you going to wear? You know I’m always up to lend you your old gear.” He added with a smirk.
“I’ll figure it out.” Dick responded with a wave of his hand. Slade knew there was a snowball’s chance in hell that Dick would want his old Renegade gear back.
Slade stood up to leave. “Meet at the Watchtower tomorrow at noon.”
Dick nodded without looking up at the man. “I guess I’ll see you there.”
*****
It was a couple hours later, and Dick lay awake in his bed, his thoughts running wild. It’s not that he was regretting agreeing to work with Slade, but he would rather get through all of this without having to explain his actions to anyone. He wasn’t sure who would be running the mission, or what exactly the mission was—Slade hadn’t been too forthcoming on the details—but he knew what Slade had said was true. If they wanted him to do it, it was because they didn’t want their hands getting bloody.
And look, it’s not that Dick was the first person in line to shed blood, but if he was willing to do so, he would rather do it without a bunch of eyes on him. Specifically bird and bat shaped eyes.
With a groan, he rolled over onto his stomach. If he was actually going to do this, he needed to get some sleep. And figure out what he was going to wear.
*****
“I wasn’t sure you were going to show.” At Slade’s words all eyes snapped to the doorway of the Watchtowers war room where a familiar face in a not so familiar outfit stood. Upon doing so, most of them froze slightly. Because there in the doorway stood Dick Grayson, the first Robin, Nightwing, famed and treasured vigilante. Except the man standing before them looked nothing like the man they knew.
For one, Dick was dressed head to toe in black combat Kevlar. There were none of the bright colors that people tended to associate with him present. There were also the long knives strapped to his back that were reminiscent of his escrima sticks but a whole lot deadlier. Not to mention the handguns that were strapped to the outside of his thighs. But that wasn’t the only thing that had the members of the league stopping in their tracks. It was the look in his eye.
Dick Grayson’s eyes had always been the most expressive part of him. But now, the once vibrant blues were dulled and closed off. Like someone had turned the light off. It was like seeing a streetlight not on in the middle of the night. Dick had always been the hero world’s guiding light. The Universal Constant.
What had happened to him?
“I had nothing better to do.” Dick responded with a shrug as he walked over to Slade. Ignoring the imploring looks as he passed by Clark and Diana. He didn’t even dare to breath in the direction of Bruce who was sitting at the table across from Slade not moving a single muscle. He made his way over towards Slade and sat down next to him.
Once upon a time he might have stood behind him, but Dick would be damned if they weren’t going into this as equals.
“Did I miss anything?” He asked the room, attempting to break the tension that was brewing.
Clark was the first to move as he cleared his throat. “NIghtwing, we didn’t expect to see you here.”
Dick shrugged in answer to the unasked question. “And yet here I am.”
“What are you doing here?” Bruce, no Batman, growled out. Dick had spent years trying to figure out why Bruce did what he did. What heavenly force was influencing him when he made the decisions he made. And right now, Dick could tell that Bruce was only slightly pissed. He was more worried and concerned. But he couldn’t let that show to everyone while he was behind the mask. God forbid Batman show a little bit of emotion.
Dick opened his mouth to reply. To say what he wasn’t sure. But Slade cut him off before he could.
“He’s with me.” All eyes turned to Dick as if to verify if that was true or not.
He shrugged. “I’m with him.” Dick tried his best to ignore the smile he could see starting to spread across Slade’s face. “Tell me about the job.” Whatever odd motivations Slade had for getting Dick into this room he would figure out later.
Diana took the bait and rolled into an explanation about what it was exactly that they would be doing. The more she went on the more Dick figured out why exactly they had called Slade. The League needed intel on some potential world ending tech that a sect of terrorists in Chicago were building. But the information on how to destroy it safely was kept behind lock in key in an underground bunker guarded by some of the most expensive guns for higher you could find these days.
“The goal is to get in and get the necessary information without being noticed, but we understand that it won’t be easy. Still, we would rather that you try to use non-lethal force when applicable.” Clark finished.
Dick looked down at his hands in his lap to avoid the look he knew Bruce was giving him.
“When do we leave?” Slade asked.
“You have thirty minutes to do anything you need to prepare. We’ll meet by the tubes after that and get ready for transport.” Clark answered.
Dick and Slade both nodded and then stood up in unison. “We’ll be ready.” Dick answered for both of them.
Everyone else followed suit in standing up and they began to file out of the room. But before he could leave a hand on his wrist stopped him. He turned sharply and ripped it out of the grasp of the one and only Batman.
“Can we talk for a second.” He asked softly and Dick had to stop himself from growling in response. Dick turned to find Slade giving him a curious look. He wasn’t sure how much Slade knew about what had happened between him and Bruce but whatever he knew he had to have known it wasn’t a good time in their relationship.
Slade shrugged. “I’ll see you in thirty.” And with that the man left the room leaving only Dick and the man he had once called Dad in the room.
Bruce moved back towards his chair, but Dick stayed standing up.
There was a moment of tense silence while Bruce raised his hands to remove his cowl and set in on the table.
“What are you doing here Dick.” The question was asked in such a defeated tone. Like Dick was the one who choose to be in this position.
“What I have to do.” He spat back. He knew no matter how hard he tried this wasn’t going to be a civil conversation. It would be easier if neither of them pretended otherwise. Bruce was the first to break eye contact. Looking away and tensing his jaw.
“Oh, don’t act so high and mighty now.” Dick hissed out. “You should be happy that I’m on the job, after all, you raised me to survive didn’t you.” Dick watched with twisted satisfaction as Bruce flinched slightly. It would’ve been unrecognizable to anyone who didn’t know the man as well as Dick did.
But they had always been the dynamic duo after all.
“Did I hit a nerve?” Dick mocked. “I’m just repeating what you told me.” Dick watched as the older man closed his eyes like in pained him to hear his own words thrown back at him.
Here it is, Dick thought, here’s the moment that he gets pissed and tries to finish what he started in the cave all those months ago. Finish what so many people had failed to do.
When he opened them there was a different type of fire burning in his eyes. Not one of anger like Dick expected to see. It was part desperation and part sadness.
“Dick please.” Bruce’s voice cracked slightly in a way that Dick had seldom heard, but he only laughed in response. A cruel laugh.
“What do you want from me Bruce.” Dick threw his hands up in the air. “I did everything you asked of me. Every fucking thing and I took all the blame for all of it. I’m the one who can’t see my family anymore. I’m the one who was shamed and shunned from the family. Not you. So don’t you fucking dare act like I’m the problem here when this is all the consequences of your fucking actions.”
Bruce opened his mouth to speak but Dick cut him off. “You beat me half to death after I had literally died before sending me off on a suicide mission and your confused as to why I’m not acting the same? Why I changed?”
This time it was Dick that was cut off, but not by Bruce. By a borderline animalistic growl from the doorway. “What the fuck.”
Dick whipped around to see a very pissed off looking Jason standing in the doorway. When the hell had he gotten there.
“Fuck me.” Dick whispered to himself as he ran his hands through his hair and looked up at the ceiling tugging on the ends that desperately needed to be trimmed.
“What is he talking about Bruce.” Jason hissed out. Dick wasn’t even sure why Jason was there. It wasn’t like known criminal Red Hood was often spotted at the Watchtower on his lunch break. He really had the worst luck. Maybe Bruce had contacted Jason telling him Dick was here and Jason wanted another shot at beating the shit out of him.
Dick was the one to respond. “Don’t worry about it Jason. I was just leaving”
Jason didn’t seem to hear him as he pushed more into the room towards Bruce who was still in his chair looking like he was about to be shipped off to the gallows. With how mad Jason was, maybe it was an accurate description of the situation.
“I asked him.” Jason growled out with a tint of green in his eyes.
Dick threw his hands up in the air again. He seemed to be doing that a lot these days. “Why the fuck do you even care Jason. It’s not like you gave a single shit about me since I’ve been back.”
Okay maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say as Jason spun towards Dick. “When did I say I didn’t care about you? Sure, I was pissed but I never wanted you out of my life.”
“You literally punched me and told me you never wanted to see me again.” Dick deadpanned. “What the hell else was I supposed to get from that conversation? Was I supposed to read between the lines and see that you deeply care about my wellbeing and miss me?”
“Sorry to break up the happy family reunion but our time slot just got moved up little bird.” Slade’s voice rang out through the intercom in the room.
Dick sighed and moved to leave the room. He needed to get himself out of this situation. But before he could leave the room Jason moved to block the doorway. “This conversation isn’t done Dick.”
“Seems pretty done to me.” He responded, not flinching away from his brother’s gaze. “Get out of my way Jason. I have to go.” Dick added with a slight shove to the other man’s chest. He didn’t really want to shove Jason out of the way, but he couldn’t be trapped in this room any longer. He had to get away from both of them.
Jason didn’t budge as he continued to look Dick up and down taking in everything that had changed since he had last seen him. “What happened to you?” He asked softly.
Dick could see as the anger melted away from his eyes and was replaced with something much worse. Pity.
“Move.” Dick growled out, this time shoving him a lot harder. Jason still didn’t move. He had to get out.
“Promise me that we can talk when you get back. We’ll talk about everything, please.”
“Just get out of my way.” Dick was embarrassed by how much his voice sounded like a broken plea.
“Promise me.” Jason repeated. Dick wasn’t sure which one of them sounded more desperate.
Dick didn’t say anything for a minute and then he sighed. “Fine. We can talk when I’m done.”
“Done with what?” A quizzical looked crossed Jason’s features. Okay so maybe Bruce hadn’t contacted Jason. “And why is Slade “Deathstroke” Wilson on the intercom asking for you?
“I said I’d find you when I’m done Jason, can you please now get the hell out of my way.” This time it was more of a demand then a question.
Jason took a second to look his older brother up and down. Whatever he saw seemed to convince him of something as he stepped to the side and let Dick pass through the door.
“I’m staying here until you get back.” Jason spoke to his back as Dick walked away.
Dick didn’t say anything as he walked towards the Zetas. He would worry about Jason later. For now, he had a mission to complete.
*****
“I’ll give you one chance to tell me what’s going on Bruce. One chance before I jump over this table.” After Dick had left to go wherever he was going Jason had sat down across from Bruce, who hadn’t moved from his seat, and proceeded to have a glaring contest until Jason finally spoke.
It was rare these days to so plainly see emotion on Bruce’s face. He always hid it away so carefully behind masks. Literally and figuratively. But right now, Jason could see so much on the older man’s features and none of it told a pretty story. He could see doubt and regret. Sadness and desperation. But most importantly, he could see fear. Fear of what, Jason wasn’t sure.
“I’ve made a lot of choices in my life that I’m not proud of.” Bruce started. And from there Bruce explained it all. He explained how Dick really had died. His heart had fully stopped courtesy of Lex Luthor. Jason’s heart clenched at the admission.
He had spent the last couple of months reminding Dick every moment he saw him that he hadn’t really died. Not like Jason had. But that wasn’t true now was it.
Jason had to clench his fists to stop himself from hopping over the table like he had promised when Bruce continued to explain what happened after Dick woke up. How they had sparred, how Dick had been coerced into going on the mission, and how Bruce wouldn’t let him say goodbye to anyone.
“That wasn’t a spar Bruce.” Was all Jason could say when Bruce was done speaking. “We both know what that was and it wasn’t a spar.” Jason couldn’t believe it. He knew that Bruce had never been the picture-perfect father of the year, but to hurt his own kid like that? What the hell had he been thinking. The more he thought about it the angrier Jason became.
“Have you ever hit him before?” Jason’s voice came out as a whisper, dreading what the answer would be.
Bruce, who had bowed his head, snapped it up. Jason was surprised to see tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the man cry before. Not real tears at least.
“No Jason, never.” Bruce’s voice broke as he spoke. “Never.” He repeated.
“Have you ever hit any of the others like that?” Right there Jason knew that if Bruce said he had hurt Tim or Steph or Cass or Damian that there would be no stopping him from finding a dark hole and throwing the man in.
But Bruce frantically shook his head. “No Jason I swear. Never.”
Jason had to stop himself from sighing. Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t good and Bruce’s actions were nowhere near forgiven, but something in his chest loosened slightly.
“I’m so pissed at you Bruce. I’m pissed and I’m disappointed that you lied to all of us, that you hurt Dick, that you let us be mad at him when he came back instead of owning up to your actions. I’m mad at myself for not questioning you further with everything that happened.” Jason let out a breath through his nose. “But we can deal with all of this shit later, and trust me, we will deal with it.”
Bruce nodded in acceptance. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this. And he didn’t want to. It was time to face the music.
“But right now, what the hell has Dickie got himself into and why is Slade Wilson involved.”
Jason snapped into analytical bat mode. He needed to make sure his brother was safe before he started his grand apology plan. Because he had so much he needed to apologize to Dick for. But right now, there were more pressing issues. Like the fact that his brother had left with Slade Wilson dressed up as a knock off John Wick.
Bruce stood up and grabbed the cowl off the table. “They should be landing soon; we can watch the footage from the conference room.”
*****
“So, was it a happy reunion?” Slade question amusedly across the comms. Slade didn’t need a visual to know that Dick was rolling his eyes.
“Happy isn’t exactly the word that I would use.” Dick grunted out as he kicked a door in. They had made their way into the bunker without much of a problem. It was getting to the control panel room that was going to prove difficult as they didn’t exactly have a blueprint to go off of.
Before Slade could quip back four men had their guns raised and pointed at Dick. He instantly dove and rolled to the side to hide behind a metal desk as shots rang out.
“Need help?” Slade asked calmly.
Too quick for the armed guards to react Dick stood up let out four shots that hit all the men in their shoulders. They all went down in a heap.
“All good. It’s not this room either.”
It went on like that for the better part of half an hour. Dick and Slade moving through the bunker slowly taking down all the guards. They had yet to find the control room, but they only had a couple of rooms left.
“Is it seriously the last room that we are going to check? There literally can’t be any more guards.” They had ended up in front of the same room at the same time.
“Or it isn’t here.” Slade suggested as he kicked the door in.
Clark and Diana were responsible for making sure all communications were down and that no one in the bunker would be able to call for reinforcements. So far it seemed to be working. However, as soon as they entered the room they were met with a barrage of bullets.
“Get down.” Slade yelled as he shoved Dick in the opposite direction of where he dove.
Dick grunted but went with the shove even though he was very capable of jumping out of the way on his own thank you very much.
Dick had run out of bullets a couple of rooms ago. He had seriously underestimated how many men they would have in this bunker. Thankfully he still had his knives.
It was strange but also made sense how seamlessly Slade and Dick’s fighting styles flowed together. Working together, they were a brutal team. There were ten men in the room and within minutes they had both taken out five. Dick had tried his best not to fatally wound any of them but that didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten a chance to take out any of his anger.
There was blood dripping from his knives and on his gloves. Slade had handed him an orange face mask that covered the bottom half of his face before they had arrived at the bunker. There was currently blood spread across it in a mockery of a bloody smile.
“All good kid?” Slade questioned as Dick spaced out staring at the pile of bodies. He wasn’t sure if Slade had killed any of them or not. It was probably better not to ask.
“Fine.” Dick grunted out.
Slade chuckled and shook his head “You really need to stop saying you’re fine.”
Dick shrugged. “Let’s get the information we need and go.” Slade nodded in response.
*****
It hadn’t taken them long to get back to the Watchtower. Dick had studiously ignored all the looks Clark shot his way and stayed close to Slade the whole car ride back to where the Zetas were.
“Not coming up?” Dick questioned as Slade made no attempts to join Dick on his way up to the Watchtower.
Slade shook his head. “This is where the road ends for me.” Dick nodded and held out his hand for the other man to shake.
“Until next time then.”
Slade took his hand. “Good luck with the family.” Dick scowled at him as he dropped the man’s hand and turned around. In the middle of all the bloodshed he forgot what was waiting for him when he got up there.
Dick knew that there was no point in procrastinating finding Jason and Bruce. “Where are they?” He asked Clark as soon as they stepped into the hallway.
“Conference room I think.” Clark responded not needing any explanation as to who Dick was asking about. “You need anything before you go there?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Dick waved him off and started his way towards the conference room. “I’m all good.” Dick had thrown his mask at Slade on the way out of the bunker, but he was still in his blood stained clothes with blood stained knives at his back.
Whatever. They could deal with a bit of blood.
Dick wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked into the conference room, but it wasn’t a very stoic looking Jason staring across the table at Bruce who looked like he had been crying. Dick schooled his emotions. He wasn’t sure what they had talked about, and he couldn’t give anything away if they didn’t already know about it. Both of the other men were still in their regular Batman and Red Hood outfits sans the cowl and the helmet.
“You wanted to talk.” Both men’s heads snapped to Dick, “here I am.”
“Dick.” All he said was his name, but Dick looked away from the sheer amount of emotion in Bruce’s voice.
“Are you hurt? Did you get checked out?” Jason stood up and sped walk over to Dick as he looked him over for injuries.
“You all need to stop asking that, I’m fine.” Dick batted the other man’s hands away as he made to rest a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah nothing says fine quite like teaming up with a sworn enemy and beating the ever-loving shit out of hundreds of men.”
“Slade isn’t my sworn enemy. We respect each other.” Jason raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else.
“Do you want to sit down?” Bruce questioned as Dick and Jason moved further into the room. Dick looked at him confused. “You don’t have to.” He added after a second.
Dick turned to Jason. “What the hell did you say to him?” It wasn’t like Bruce to ask if he wanted to sit down. Jason must have put the fear of god in him.
“Just sit down dickiebird.” Dick couldn’t stop the small smile pulling at his lips at the old nickname.
As Dick sat down he found himself wishing that the chairs were spinny chairs.
It was Bruce who spoke first. “I’m so sorry Richard. I know it doesn’t make up for what I did, for how I treated you after Lex,” Dick had to stop himself from cringing at the name. “for what happened in the cave, for Spyral, for not admitting to everyone what happened when you got back. I messed up and I messed up badly. I don’t expect your forgiveness and I’m not asking for it. I just need you to know that I’m sorry and that I will spend however long you need making up for it. Even if you decide you never want me in your life.”
Dick was frozen. How many times had he wanted to hear those exact words from his dad’s mouth. How many times had he expected an apology and not got it? Why now?
Was it because Bruce finally saw that he was too broken to repair?
Dick stood up and shoved his chair back before stepping away from the table. “No. you don’t get to do this now.” Dick turned his back towards Bruce and ran his hands through his hair.
“Chum…” And that old nickname was what broke Dick. He spun around to see Bruce slowly rising out of his seat.
“No Bruce.” His voice was climbing in volume and in pitch. Distantly he recognized that his heartbeat was picking up as well as his breathing. “You don’t get to apologize now and expect everything to be fine. You sent me off to die Bruce. You sent me off with no plan of return. And what? Now that you see what it made me into you’re sorry?”
“Dick no.” Bruce raised his hands up like he was placating a wild animal.
A wild bird.
Dick shook his head and spun towards Jason who was now also standing up. “Did you watch the footage of the bunker? Is this what this is about? There can only be one person in the family who spills a little more blood then needed so now I get an intervention?”
“No one’s judging you Dick please. We just want to talk this out please.” Jason replied.
“Talk?” Dick exclaimed. “When has this family ever talked things out? It’s hit first, ask questions never. Always has been and always will be.”
Jason let out a soft sigh before responding. “Yeah and look how well that’s turned out for everyone. So maybe we switch things up and talk this through.” If Dick was in a more clearheaded state he would be proud of his younger brother for being so patient.
“Then talk. Say what you need to say and then I’m leaving.”
Jason took that as easy permission to say his piece. “Dick I’m sorry I didn’t ask more questions when you came back. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you like you’ve always been for me. I’m sorry for hitting you, I’m sorry for everything that I said. If you don’t want me in your life then say the word and I’m gone, but I would love to have my older brother back.”
After a second of silence Jason added on. “And don’t for a second ever think that we think you’re a monster. You did what you had to survive and yeah, that’s going to stay with you for a long, long time. But you didn’t turn away from me when I was on the dark side, don’t think for a second that I’m turning away from you.”
Dick took a step back and neither man made to move towards him.
“I don’t know what to do.” Dick admitted in a shameful whisper to the room. “I’m not the same person as the one I was a year ago, and I’m not sure that I ever will be. I’m sue you saw that on the security footage.” Dick had asked earlier but he knew that they had been watching his actions in the bunker.
He knew that they could see the blood on him that wasn’t his. He knew they were smart enough to put the pieces together. He’d be worried for the future of Gotham if they couldn’t.
Dick turned to Bruce. He knew Jason was in no place to be judging his actions. What they saw him do was nowhere close to the duffle bag of heads. But no matter how hard he tried, Dick still cared about Bruce’s opinion. He knew he should hate the man. Should turn around and walk out the door and never walk back in. The man had hurt him.
Call it a spar, call it whatever you want. Bruce had hurt him in his own home for the sake of the mission. So why did Dick care what the man thought?
“Don’t say what you think I want to hear Bruce. Just tell me the truth.” Dick added quickly before Bruce could respond.
Bruce took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not saying I’m happy with you putting common criminals into comas or the amount of force that you used on the men in the bunker today, but I have no room to judge you chum. It doesn’t make you any less of my son and it doesn’t make me any less sorry for what I did and what I put you through. If you want to continue like this I can’t stop you and I won’t try. But if not I can try my best to help you.”
As much as he didn’t want to believe it, Dick knew that Bruce was being genuine. That there was truth to what he was saying. And Dick also knew that Bruce could help him get rid of some of the less desirable habits Spyral had left him with. But could it really be this easy?
“We’re not just the sum product of all our past mistakes Dickie. Not a single one of us has room to judge you for what you did just like you don’t judge any of us for what we’ve done.”
“It can’t go back to how it was.” Dick pointed out.
“Therapy.” Bruce stated with no explanation as both of his sons turned to look at him confused. The oldest man dodged their gazes and rubbed the back of his neck with his gloved hand.
“About a week ago I had a long talk with Clark, and he gave me a couple recommendations of League approved therapists. I had an intake appointment this morning. It’s not going to magically fix me, and I know I have to put in the work and make up for everything still, but I promise I’m trying.”
“And I would urge you both to find therapist too. I can ask Clark for more recommendations, or you can find your own.” Bruce finished and finally met their confused gaze.
“Wow B, that’s a big step.” Dick was in a semi-state of shock. He had tried so many times over the years to get the man to consider therapy. He had all but given up on it.
“I want to do better, for everyone.” There was still so much raw emotion on the man’s face that it was almost hard to stay looking at him. “I’m not sure how we all move on from here, but I want to try to move forward. Together. But only if you want to.”
Dick thought about it. He had poured so much into this family. He had given everything including his life to make sure that they stayed safe. How was he supposed to trust that something like this wouldn’t happen again? What would stop them all from turning on him the next time he made a mistake?
He wanted to trust them, he really did. But they had hurt him.
On the other hand, though, they were his family. And Dick knew that he didn’t owe them anything and maybe it was idiotic of him to give them another chance. But what would happen if he didn’t? If he just walked away and never saw them again. He was spiraling with no end destination in sight. He didn’t want to keep going the way that he was.
Dick let out a long breath. “I’m going to need some space to work through some of this on my own, but I don’t want to kick you out of my life forever. Things can’t be like they were or I’m walking out for good.”
Both Jason and Bruce frantically nodded.
Maybe things would work out okay after all.