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“Alf? You in here?” Dick knocked on the doorway to the laundry room. Alfred looked up from the armchair in the corner he was sat, a book on his lap and his phone playing old orchestral music on the side table.
“Ah, Master Dick-- how can I help you?”
The older man closed his book and leaned forward with a smile. By his feet was an unfolded basket of laundry. It seemed that procrastination was not something that you tend to outgrow.
“I need some help ironing this,” He held up his balled-up silk shirt, “But I see I’m not the only one not really in the mood for doing laundry.”
Alfred laughed and stood from his armchair. He held out an expectant hand so he could inspect the poor blouse, and Dick was all too happy to oblige. This year was the first that the entire family went out for a Halloween celebration together, and the silk shirt was for Dick’s expertly crafted pirate costume. He hadn’t gone all out of a costume since he was a boy, but with this year being such a special occasion, as well as his therapist’s recommendation that he still let himself have fun, there was to be a return.
Dick watched Alfred inspect the tags of the shirt, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him. This almost exact scene was something that always framed his memory of his first Halloween at the Manor. Alfred, helping Dick prepare a costume for that night after several last minute costume changes, and Dick, buzzing with nervous energy.
As a small child, traveling around with his parents in the circus, Halloween had been that of an afterthought. The only real costume he’d gotten to wear was just his trapeze outfit, with alternate colors to fit Haley’s Halloween themed show. Where his parents were raised-- Europe in minority communities-- didn’t really see much of Halloween, so the only thing Dick knew was through the lense of selling tickets. That meant that by the time Dick was settled in New Jersey with Bruce, he’d only ever gotten to see people dress up and trick or treat, but never partake himself.
Hence, a little orphan Dick Grayson, staring up at a younger Alfred, eyes wide and clutching a white sheet for an equally little ghost costume.
“We can certainly make do.” Alfred finally stated, startling Dick from his reminiscing.
“Perfect! What can I do to help?”
Alfred set the shirt down on the top of the dryer and began to rummage through the cupboards above it. “Could you pull out the ironing board, please? I’ll show you how to iron this without burning the silk.”
Happy to oblige, Dick did just that.
“Hey, do you remember my first Halloween here?” Dick finally piped up. He couldn’t stop his mind from racing about all of the different ways tonight could be a failure, but thinking back to his first spooky celebration with Bruce and Alfred gave him a sense of familiarity.
“Of course I do. I still keep the photo of you and Bruce in my album, in fact. Why do you bring it up?”
“I feel like I’m reliving it again. I’m nervous-- there are new things going on, and I still can’t do my own laundry.”
Alfred snorted at that, bringing over the iron and his shirt to the board.
“But you do remember how that night ended, don’t you?” Alfred asked. “You felt all of those feelings, but you’re still here, God knows how many years later.”
He was right, Dick had to admit to himself. Things that night had most definitely gone not according to plan, but that memory still pushed him through his down periods. If little nine year old Dick could enjoy a holiday whose only purpose is to dress up and eat candy even after the death of both of his parents and in the large home of a quiet and aloof man, then he could do so much more.
…
“Mr Alfred? Do you have any scissors?”
A shaggy head of black hair poked out from behind the door frame, startling Alfred. Dick Grayson, Bruce’s new ward, stood at barely four feet and had quite the knack for quietly creeping around the house.
“What for, my boy?”
Dick stepped forward, a spare white sheet bundled in his arms. His face was hardly visible over the top. It took a good deal of willpower for Alfred not to bring both hands to his heart at how apprehensive yet curious the boy was. He didn’t even care that the sheet he brought was a spare guest bedroom sheet-- he would burn it if it accomplished what Dick needed.
“I wanna be a ghost for Halloween! But… I don’t wanna ruin it. Can you help me?” Dick asked. The bundle wobbled in his arms.
“I’d be happy to, young sir. Would you lay that down on the table here?” Alfred turned to fetch a pair of fabric scissors from his sewing kit. “I’ll teach you how to cut the circles nice and even.”
When Alfred turned back to face the boy, he was met with the most genuine smile he’d seen since Dick had entered the Wayne household. To hell with Christmas miracles, there was something much more impressive to be seen here on this juvenile candy-filled holiday. A few weeks ago, Dick had turned down Bruce’s suggestion for trick-or-treating, but the fact that he had come to Alfred directly? Monumental.
He couldn’t help but wonder what spurred on the sudden change of heart, and on the afternoon of Halloween, no less.
“I take it you plan of trick-or-treating tonight?”
Alfred sat down at the table with scissors and a marker after straightening out the blanket that Dick had messily strewn out. Dick followed suit, also trying to help straighten up. It was ultimately unhelpful but Alfred didn’t mind. The boy wasn’t all that different from Bruce at this age.
“Yeah! I wanna surprise Bruce.” Dick was bouncing in his seat excitedly. “I’ve never been out before for Halloween. D’you think Bruce has been trick-or-treating before?”
Suddenly, Dick stopped and gasped.
“D’you think he’ll still wanna take me?”
Alfred gave a reassuring smile.
“I guarantee that he will be thrilled to take you. Now, you’ll want to trace your shapes first…”
And for the next two hours, Dick and Alfred painstakingly worked on making the coolest ghost costume. It shouldn’t have taken so long normally, but between the child’s distractibility, as well as his want for a perfect costume, there were some unforeseen bumps along the way.
The biggest one being that Dick craved perfection, but he was also nine years old doing something for the first time. The butler couldn’t help the clench of sadness in his heart at the sight of Dick’s drawn back eyebrows and wobbling lower lip.
“It looks stupid,” The young boy whispered.
“I believe the contrary. It looks wonderful.” Alfred tried to reassure, reaching an arm forward to place on Dick’s shoulder, but Dick pushed his chair back too quickly. The screeching of the wooden chair legs on the tiled laundry room floors were jarring, and Alfred was too shocked to respond.
To his increasing horror, Dick began to cry in earnest.
“I don’t want to go trick-or-treating!” He sobbed.
Dick sank to the floor and buried his face in his hands and knees. A million and one thoughts raced through Alfred’s head, but it seemed not one was the correct answer for this situation. Was there even a correct answer? The boy didn’t want to be touched, he didn’t want platitudes, and he certainly wasn’t in the right mind to reason through things, so what was he to do?
What did Alfred do when Bruce was a young boy?
He could vividly remember all of the canceled plans and missed opportunities the pair had dealt with when it came to Bruce’s dreary moods. In those cases, Alfred and Bruce usually stayed home where there was no shortage of blankets, food, and movies on tape to watch.
Perhaps what Dick needed wasn’t a loud and stressful night out…
“My boy, would you like to put together a blanket fort and watch a movie?”
Still sniffling, Dick lifted his head from the ball of sadness.
“There is a film Master Bruce quite enjoyed in his youth. I can guarantee he will help you build a fort in the media room while the movie plays.” The butler paused, looking for the final nail in the coffin. “I could make pizza bites?”
At the mention of his favorite snack, a small grin broke out on the young boy’s face. Alfred only pulled out the pizza bites on special occasions.
It only took a few more seconds of hesitation from Dick before he slowly unfolded and stood up, where the two of them held hands and walked to the media room. Alfred called for Bruce, and without even needed explanation, he left his study to join his ward.
In the media room of the manor, the photo of Dick and Bruce diligently assembling a fort of blankets and pillows while It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown played in the background still hung on the wall.
…
Dick got to go treat-or-treating the next year, and the next, and the next until he decided he was too old and broody for silly costumes. Of course, as Dick got even older, he went back to dressing up and celebrating, but that definitely took a few years of maturing. During the nebulous time period of fighting with Bruce and living alone in Blüdhaven, he still managed to get in one Halloween night.
This time, in fact, he was no longer an only child.
…
Dick was livid, livid , with Bruce. Not only did he have the audacity to ask him to come to the manor to visit his surprise adopted brother, but he wanted Dick to bring groceries too?? The multi-billionaire couldn’t buy a few bags of Halloween candy, so he contacted his broke estranged child to do it instead?
And of course, Dick agreed, because even though he was so beyond pissed, Bruce was still the closest parental figure had. Plus, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to visit Alfred.
That’s where Dick was left-- on the bus with two plastic grocery bags of candy as he made his way from Blüdhaven to Bristol in Gotham.
He’d met Jason, his new brother, before, but it never got easier. The kid was a real punk on the outside, and Dick had never stayed in Bristol long enough to really talk to him. Bruce and Dick’s fights got too ugly too quickly.
“Now arriving-- Robinson Park. Now arriving-- Robinson Park.”
Dick yawned and stood up. Alfred was supposed to be picking him up from the bus stop at Robinson Park. It was their yearly tradition to check out how the park was decorated for Halloween, and even as Dick and Bruce grew further apart, Alfred and Dick stayed the same. It was hard not to think of Alfred as his really, really old dad.
Fetching his small rolling suitcase of clothes (optimistically packed for three days) and his grocery bags of candy, he dismounted the bus to begin the search for Alf.
It had been a few months since he’d been willing to visit again. It never did get easier, even when he already knew what to expect. There hadn’t been a single visit that didn’t result in hurt feelings, yet… here he was, scanning the sidewalk for an old gentleman in a long button-down coat so he could return to the Manor.
“Alfred!” Dick cried once he finally spotted him. He nearly dropped his bags in excitement.
Alfred warmly opened his arms so Dick could (gently) tackle him with a hug.
With a fond, “Master Dick,” Alfred led him to the car, and off to the Wayne residence they went.
The two spoke in the car, but Dick couldn’t help but to lose his eagerness as they grew closer to the front door. This always happened, he told himself. If he can get through the door, he’s done the hardest part.
Of course, that wasn’t really true. The hardest part was coexisting with Bruce, doing his best to ignore the swirling feelings of rage and vitriol, shoving down bitter memories and regrets, and the new kid eagerly tried to get his attention.
Maybe this time would be different, Dick thought as he opened the door for Alfred.
Alfred encouraged Dick and called out, “Young Master Ja-”
“BOO!”
Jason leapt down from the alcove by the down, which was like eight fucking feet from the ground. He did some showy little jazz hands after he landed.
“Mother of God!” Dick cried, a hand clutched to his chest. Alfred just looked exhausted, resting his forehead on his hand. One could only assume this was a daily occurrence. Something in the back of his mind reminded Dick that this was something he used to do. The parallels made him uncomfortable.
“Hi Jason.” Dick deadpanned. “Happy Halloween.”
“Ha! I scared you! I scared Nightwing!”
“Not upstairs,” Alfred chided, hanging up his coat. Dick shucked his own and hung his next to Alfred’s.
“Man, you guys are no fun.” Jason grumbled.
“I don’t care much for being startled by a rat child.” Dick lifted his nose up in the air, trying not to let a grin slip through as Jason’s face grew red and he started making all sorts of indignant noises. He had to take a step back when Jason came swinging. “Hey now!” Dick laughed.
“BRUCE!” Jason shrieked. “I’m being victimized! Wounded through prejudice!” He turned to Dick. “Classist loser.”
Dick spluttered, and behind him, Alfred snored.
“Sir, I grew up in the circus! I am literally an ethnic minority.”
Jason covered his ears.
“Lalalalalalala--”
“Jason? What are you shouting for?”
Immediately, both of the Wayne boys’ heads shot up to the second floor landing, where Bruce stood, visibly confused and cleaning his glasses.
“Dick is here!”
“Hi, Bruce.”
Dick willed himself to give an awkward little wave and immediately cringed so hard he was worried he may fall over.
“Oh, Dick.” There was a weirdly long pause. “Good to see you.”
It was a monumental fight for Dick not to just turn around and leave, but he was really trying not to be a petty bitch in front of Jason. From the corner of his eye, he could see the boy rocking from one foot to the other nervously.
Should he say hi again? Were there questions he could ask? Gosh, why couldn’t Bruce just walk away and make everything less awkward?
“Ugh, you two suck.” Jason grumbled. “Dick, follow me! Alfred let me use fake blood for my costume. I’m gonna be a nasty-ass zombie!.”
From above, Bruce chimed in, “Please don’t go overboard, lad. We don’t need to traumatize any children tonight.”
Jason stuck his tongue out, winking at Alfred, and grabbed Dick’s shirt sleeve and yanked him to the dining area, where he eagerly showed off his admitted pretty disgusting zombie costume.
“Soooo, are you gonna be anything cool? Or are you sticking with the whole ‘broke kindergarten teacher’ vibe?” The gangly teen asked.
“Wow, okay, harsh. I’m actually a ‘broke police academy flunkie’, and no, I don’t think I’ll be dressing up.”
Jason wrinkled his nose. “Eww, police. Good thing you didn’t become one. You could probabl;y pull off a kindergarten teacher though. And also!! Don’t be laaaaaaaaaaaaaame…”
If he was being honest, Dick would sort of rather sit in an uncomfortable quiet with Bruce than deal with the energetic kid. It wasn’t really Jason or his personality, but it had more to do with how happy he was here. It struck a cord that he wasn’t ready to unravel yet.
“Kid, I said n-”
Dick looked up from his hands that he was unknowingly wringing out to see that punk of a kid grinning like a maniac, holding up a dumb plastic skeleton mask.
“...What?”
“Bruce agreed to wear a zombie mask, and it came with a skeleton too. Are you suuure…?”
Good Mother above. This was going to end him. Dick was going to die prematurely from emotional whiplash because of some street kid Bruce adopted. With the pleading look on his goofy face, he didn’t think he could decline now.
It was beyond irritating for Jason to always be pushing his boundaries and buttons, but given the current familial dysfunction they have been experiencing, was it really so bad to cave?
“Fine.”
Jason’s eyes widened in disbelief, as though he really wasn’t expecting Dick to agree.
“Hell yeah!” He pumped his fist. “You’re the coolest brother, you know that?”
All of Dick’s limbs locked up. Brother? Oh, this was dangerous. Dick didn’t know how he was going to keep avoiding Bristol if he had a new brother living here. The more he thought about it, however, the more he was alright with the idea of visiting more. Screw Bruce-- what really mattered was Alf and Jason now.
The scraggly kid called for Alfred to come in to help him do zombie face paint, visibly buzzing with excitement to hit the streets with his horrifying zombie getup.
“This is the coolest Halloween, right?” Jason asked. Dick looked down by his side to see the kid looking up and smiling.
“Sure is, kid.”
And tentatively, Dick ruffled Jason’s hair.
The ungodly squawk he heard made the whole outing worth it. Maybe Dick would last all three days here.
…
Nightwing couldn’t help but to be a bit suspicious when he saw Robin and Black Bat sneak off towards the end of their patrol. The two of them weren’t particularly known for their obedience or wise choices.
With a tired sigh, Dick followed them silently. Tim and Cass were good kids and he was mostly sure they would be fine, but he’s seen the predicaments Tim’s gotten into and he knows how easily influenced Cass can be.
“Okay,” Tim whispered, and Dick froze from where he was hiding. He saw a flash of a red cape, and the small supply room the two teens were in illuminated. Ah, that was Tim’s latest tinkering project. He’d been working on sustainable and quick light sources in case of emergencies.
Hell, was one of them injured? Dick wouldn’t be too surprised if Cass was performing field surgery on Tim. It could not be stressed enough how frighteningly independent those two thought they had to be.
“Light?” Cass asked.
“Well, yeah, but technically I named them Bird-Sticks. I mean, I don’t have a patent or anything, but I call it-”
“Robin.”
“Sorry, yeah, Halloween. So, those kids we saw? They were costumes. Halloween is like… a holiday celebrating all things spooky-scary. People dress up, get candy, watch scary movies, and just typically enjoy weird things.”
“You?”
Tim was quiet. Dick winced when he realized he’d know Tim for like, three years now, and not once had it ever really been acknowledged.
Of course, it wasn’t some federal holiday, and it didn’t really have traditional emotional standing, but it certainly did not feel good to realize how little effort was made to bond with Tim. Even… even Jason got silly family Halloween get-togethers.
Not that Tim is Jason. Fuck, Dick didn’t eavesdrop just to feel sad. Clearly, Tim and Cass were physically fine, so he should just really wrap it up and head to the Cave. What they talked about in their off time really wasn’t any of his business.
“I haven’t really done anything like dress up before, but I used to watch reruns of horror movies on TV when I was little.” Tim laughed. “Maybe we’ll watch something tonight. I can swing by a store for candy before we head back to the Manor. I don’t have my wallet, but sometimes clerks give me free stuff for being Robin.”
Oh man, this was sad. Dick couldn’t sit and listen. By all means, he should have just left, but Dick hadn’t lost all soft feelings-- he’d just been a bit more closed off. It hadn’t exactly been an easy few years. Regardless of it all, Dick really did care about Tim, and even though Cass was new to it all, he cared about her too. Both of them were young, but had seen things that most grown adults will never see.
“Black Bat, Robin. Let’s head out.” Dick called, turning his head so it didn’t seem like he was nearby the entire time.
“Copy that!” Robin called back. There was some shuffling before the Birdstick turned off and the two quickly joined Nightwing.
There was a bit of quiet before Dick finally grew the courage to finally say something.
“You know, tonight is Halloween.” Dick began. He felt so awkward.
“Costumes and candy.” Black Bat chimed it. Robin gave a small “Heck yeah,” and the two high fived.
It was heartwarming how goofy those two were. Cassandra was still learning speech and social cues, and Tim was… Tim. He was a sweet kid, it was just a challenge to connect with someone while you were still grieving over something that would never get better,
“I was thinking- what if we watched It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown . I’ll order pizza?”
Cass glanced at Tim. It seemed like she was gauging what the right reaction was at this moment.
Tim, on the other hand, was grinning so wide it looked like he might be hurting himself.
“Oh, yeah! That’d be awesome!!”
Cass nodded. “Movie?” She asked.
“Yup. It’s the first Halloween movie I watched when B brought me in.”
“Cool! I’ve never seen it, ‘coz it’s like… old.”
Dick pointed and Tim, squinting. “Watch yourself.”
Cass snickered and Tim smiled.
“Anyways,” Dick continued. The three turned the corner and began the descent to the secret entrance to the Bat Cave. “I know where Bruce keeps his wallet. You guys get changed and meet me in the media, ‘kay? I’ll order food.”
“Sounds like a plan! You’re the best, N.”
Dick couldn’t physically fathom looking back at Tim. His heart ached for the young boy he never got to connect with like this.
“Mm,” Dick croaked, and the two younger split off to change for their little Halloween celebration.
He couldn’t change how he interacted with Jason, with how little the two got along, and how utterly destroyed his relationship with Bruce was, but at least he could take some money from the billionaire and spend some time with the sad teenagers he did have in his life.
…
“Scooby Doo?”
“No.”
“A knight?”
“Knights are sad European excuses for what the samurai accomplished better.”
“Alright, that’s a no. What about one of those costumes where it looks like you’re riding an ostrich?”
“Richard. I don’t think I want to dress up if every option makes me look like a juvenile fool.”
Dick sighed. He just wanted Damian to enjoy Halloween like a normal kid.
“Okay, noted. What about…. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?”
Damian didn’t immediately shut that down. Was he really considering being the goofiest suggestion yet??
“Can I just be a ninja? I could wear something from home. Pop culture here always inaccurately portrays what a ninja should look like, and I just so happen to have what might fit.”
“Yes!” Dick cheered. It wasn’t what he had in mind, but he’d been really working hard to connect with Damian, and his siblings in general, rather than try to control them. “Wonderful idea. I know where we can get some good candy.”
The younger Wayne boy still wouldn’t directly acknowledge his love for sweets, but it didn’t take much to realize that he was quite taken with them. It spoke volumes that he didn’t protest the candy aspect of trick or treating. Typically, that would elicit a rant about sugar consumption or immature behavior or something, but as Dick slowly got Damian to come out of his shell, the less vocally judgemental he got.
Dick wishes he got that chance with Jason and Tim, but he rightly fucked those up. Moments of “what-ifs” were now reserved for waking up in the middle of the night and crying in the shower.
“Is there anything you don’t have that Alfred can help you with?”
Damian pondered, then asked if “Mr Pennyworth” would have some safety pins that he could borrow. Apparently, Talia had sent some of Damian’s more formal clothes in larger sizes so that he could grow into them, but poor Damian was in a bit of an awkward growth stage. The boy didn’t say that last part-- Dick just observed that.
Promising to meet Dami down in the foyer in half an hour, Dick set off to look for his beloved butler/grandfather/really old uncle. Alfred would probably resent that last part.
The last few months were rough. More than rough. Bruce was-- Bruce was dead . Jason was off somewhere, occasionally slinking back to say hi and leave again for who knows how long. Tim hadn’t had contact with anyone in months. The only thing Dick could do was maintain the status quo and take care of Damian.
“Master Dick? How can I help you?”
Dick swiped at his eyes.
“Dami needs safety pins. He agreed to go out tonight.” Dick sniffed. “I’m glad he can be a regular kid.”
“And is that what has you teary-eyed?”
“No, just… thinking. It’s silly. Halloween isn’t like, an emotional holiday.”
Alfred hummed as he rummaged through a drawer of sewing supplies.
“This household has certainly seen more Halloween than Christmas,” Alfred pointed out. “Especially with the children. Every one of you has had your childhood years robbed in one way or another. Halloween was a way that you could all bypass that.”
The younger man wiped his nose on his sleeve and huffed wetly.
“When did you become a psychotherapist?”
The corner of his mouth quirked up.
“I’ve been alive a long time.”
Alfred gave Dick a tin of safety pins and held Dick’s hand for a good minute.
“Go enjoy the night.”
It took a good deal of hyping up to finally meet his youngest adopted brother in the foyer. All day, he’d been trying not to build up big expectations or doom-spiral about what might happen, but Dick had only started going to therapy a month and a half ago, so he hadn’t exactly had too much time to work on that.
God, he was so nervous. What if Damian changed his mind? Or if something came up? Maybe vigilantism issues would stop them, even though he’d organized the schedules so that he could prioritize Damian tonight.
Prioritizing the Wayne kids had been something he thought about more and more. It wasn’t easy by any means, and sometimes, the dedication to his work still seemed more important than the small things that were required of him, but Dick had lost too much lately. He couldn’t lose any more. He just couldn’t handle it.
Dick walked onto the large rug in the foyer, unconsciously holding his breath. Tonight was only trick-or-treating with one traumatized child, but it felt more frightening than any of the dangerous cases he’d gone on as Nightwing in the past six months.
Soft footsteps came from the hallway.
“Oh, hey kiddo.” Dick said, trying to give a wobbly smile. A brief look of confusion flashed on Damian’s face, but he seemed to choose to ignore it.
“Hello Richard. I am ready.”
“I can see that. Are you excited?”
The boy paused to think. Dick assumed he was carefully deciding which words would display that he was in fact excited, but in a dignified way.
But to his utter shock and surprise,
“I am.”
Dick couldn’t help the massive cheery grin that broke out on his face. “Me too! Shall we head out?”
Still looking confused, Damian nodded, but without further ado, the two hit the streets.
…
“DICK” A voice screamed from what sounded like the second floor landing.
Dick winced and Alfred laughed.
“Looks like your shirt is nice and crease-less. Why not change into your pirate outfit and check on whoever is shouting? It sounds to me like Tim.”
“I will. Thank you again, Alfie. I…” Dick didn’t really know what exactly to say, so he just stood up and hugged the beloved butler. “I wouldn’t be able to do this without you. Ironing my silk shirt and just… existing. Thank you.”
Alfred gave a gentle squeeze and let him go.
“You’re stronger than you think, my boy, but I am always happy to help.”
“DIIIIIIIICK!” The voice screamed again. It sounded like Tim, which was odd, considering the two of them were still on somewhat tenuous grounds.
The young man gathered his things from the laundry, gave a wave to Alfred, and headed out to check on the commotion, but not before a quick change of clothes so that he’d be ready.
It was shortly thereafter that he saw what was happening.
Steph, wearing a red wig, and Tim in a red dress. Cass stood behind them in a green dress, looking far more put together than the other two.
“Dick! Steph won’t give me back my wig!”
“Dick! Tell Tim I look better as Blossom! He can be Bubbles.”
“We don’t have a blonde wig! And I called being Blossom.”
“Are you three… Powerpuff Girls?” Dick asked, bewildered. Cass, Steph, and Tim had been awfully secretive of their costumes, insisting the reveal would be worth it. Clearly, whatever conviction that previous statement had was now lost in the squabble.
Truthfully, Steph did look better in the red wig, though.
“Guys, really? Aren’t you all adults now?”
“Dick,” Steph pouted, pulling the cheap wig from her head. “I’m wounded. Are you saying we aren’t mature? Because dressing as the best cartoon characters ever is definitely a mature thing to do.”
Tim snatched up the wig from Steph’s clutches and messily secured it over his short dark hair, before securing a bright red bow to the top. Cass moved to help Stephanie tie her hair up into Bubbles’ pigtails.
“You are all exhausted.” Dick said, but he didn’t really mind. He was glad they were having fun, even if they were rather annoying with it.
“Hi Dick!” Duke cheered from down the hall. “And Cass, Steph, and Tim. Oh, and Damian.”
Dick waved, then twirled around to find where Damian had been hiding out. He jumped down from one of the alcoves, dressed in a cheap Party Town Batman costume. Everyone already knew what Damian was planning on wearing this Halloween, but seeing the kid wear it hit differently.
“Oh my God, that’s adorable. Damian, hold still-- I wanna get a photo.” Steph cooed.
“I’ll break your phone.” Damian threatened sourly.
“Damian, don’t be unkind.” Duke chimed. “Do you guys like my costume? I’m a sick-ass cowboy.”
“You look awesome!” and “Very nice!” Came from Steph and Tim respectively.
Feeling a little overwhelmed, Dick took a step back and watched the chatter between everyone-- adopted Wayne or not.
Out in his peripheral, he could see a flash of red and blue on a hulking figure. Dick huffed as it approached.
“Hi, kids.” Bruce said, clad in an equally cheap Superman Party Town costume. The previous chatter was upgraded into a chaotic din of noise. Dick found himself pulling out his phone to take a photo.
He knew that in a room of trained detectives, it wasn’t going to go unnoticed, but clearly the current costumes were much more pressing than a photo or two.
“Amazing.” Cass said, and Bruce gave her a little side hug.
Bruce let go of her and stood beside Dick. “Nice pirate,” He said to his oldest child. Dick still glowed at the praise.
“Alright, who are we missing?” Their weird father asked, before doing a headcount. “Babs is meeting us at the haunted house, Alfred said he needed one moment…. Where is Jason?”
“ONE SECOND!” Jason’s voice boomed from inside one of the bedrooms down the hall. A bit of clattering rang out and the door finally opened, to show Jason dressed as a rather gory zombie.
Duke groaned. “Dude, you were a zombie last year too. Boo-ooring.”
Dick spotted a small twitch on Bruce’s face. The first time Jason made a zombie joke since coming back, Bruce cried in his room for the next three hours. It’d been quite a while now, and it almost seemed like Bruce was trying not to laugh now.
Oh, how far they’ve come.
“Should we start to get ready to go?” Dick asked, feeling something ooey-gooey in his chest.
“Oh yes,” Alfred stepped from the shadows, clad in a wicked curly wig and some brightly colored flared pants. Was he… a disco dancer? Oh, this is amazing. “Once I get a photo of us all.”
Dick helped corral everyone. It was hard to not smile with everything happening. Going back to previous years, nothing had ever been quite as special as tonight. Everyone was relatively safe, sound of mind-ish, and happy .
Happy Halloween.