Chapter Text
Chewing on his lip, Tim Drake stood on the sidelines with his mentor and his younger brother to look on.
Furrowing his brow, he pondered. While it in Robin’s nature to be taken for granted, Tim thought it wasn’t that big of a deal. Yes, he saved Batman from crossing lines that he didn’t want to be crossed, but somebody had to.
Dick hadn’t wanted been willing to put himself back into the role of Robin. So, he did what any capable person at the time would have done. He stepped up.
Does it hurt knowing he was the only Robin that wasn’t picked or chosen? Yes. But that’s something that he has to deal with. It’s not his problem.
It made him feel uncertain and unsure that his deeds were seen. That somebody could recognize and give him credit for the work he did. To see how much he sacrificed and want more for him.
Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he shifts from one foot onto the other. Eyes darting to Batman, he fingers find his glove to fiddle with.
Tim doesn’t know if he should feel seen or angry. Having been raked over the coals and simultaneously praised for being the thing that kept his mentor from falling apart left him feeling uncertain and unsteady in his role.
When he first started as Robin, he had hopes and dreams and expectations. Of course, Tim knew from the beginning that he was just a placeholder, but he’d hoped. Hoped that one day, he’d find family with these people. A home.
The further he got into his role and the more he experienced and the more that the losses piled up against him, he sense of hope started to slip away. The very thing that Robin was meant to personify, he was losing.
He stopped smiling and he stopped joking. He stopped reaching out. He had stopped asking for help.
Red Robin had become jaded.
Seeing how the people of Gotham saw him when his family failed took him aback. He logically knew he had an impact on the people he saved. Unfortunately, humans aren’t infallible. Tim Drake let his insecurities get the best of him.
Can’t be disappointed if there were no expectations.
Plan for the worst, hope for the best.
Uncomfortable with his thoughts that bubbled up, he reaches for his phone. Thumbing the buttons, he pulls it out of his utility belt.
Being chronically addicted to his phone, he had Cyborg update his phone to receive signal from virtually anywhere. Sue him, he took after Batman. He needs to know everything that happens as soon as possible.
Opening one of the many notifications from the numerous messages that have piled up within 45 short minutes, he taps open a notification from the Teen Titans. Quickly skimming through the messages, he’s eyes widen. Pulling a sharp breath in, he forces himself to keep breathing.
There was a live broadcast recording Nightwing.
Scrolling down the feed, he opens the link to the broadcast.
There was a live broadcast recording Nightwing.
Millions of people. Millions of people are watching.
And the number is steadily growing higher.
Chewing on his cheek, Tim’s eyes dart to glance at Batman and Robin. Neither of them had seen him pull his phone out of his pocket. Too invested in what was happening to Dick onstage, their full attention was focused somewhere else.
Focusing his own attention back to his phone screen, Red Robin must come to a decision.
Reveal the problem or keep it to himself.
If he revealed the issue, it could protentional cause Dick to completely loose his already crumbling composure. They could keep it from him, but Nightwing is perceptive. He’d figure it out eventually, whether they wanted him to or not.
Keeping it to himself would contain the problem to a certain extent. Keeping information to yourself during a mission is against everything that Batman had every taught his Robin’s. Information is always meant to be shared and communicated.
But… but maybe this one time he wouldn’t. This one time, maybe he could go against protocol for Nightwing.
No. This time… this time for Dick.
From the stage, Dick wipes sweat from his brow. Licking his cracked lips, he nervously glances to Red Robin.
It takes him a moment to process what he’s seeing, but he’s not sure why it surprises him. Seeing Tim on his phone, Dick forces himself to breathe against the disappointment that wells up in his chest.
Dick should know better by now than to expect anything else from Tim, especially after what he did to him. But it doesn’t stop the hurt.
Of course, one song doesn’t fix years’ worth of hurt. He was naive to think so.
Forcing himself to smile like he always does, he straightens his spine and clears his throat. “So, now you know the story of how Red Robin started his career. Cool, right?”
Jerked out of his own thoughts at the sound of Dick’s voice, Tim nods to himself. Shoving his phone back into his belt, Tim looks up at his brother. The smile is fake and his posture his too straight.
He’ll keep it to himself.
“So, yeah. Red Robin, formally just Robin, was keeping Gotham on track while I was… somewhere else.” Dick laughs to himself, “Yeah, I was with the Teen Titans and the Young Justice teams. But, oh, did those end spectacularly.”
Running his hands through his hair, he winces at the memories.
“But I guess we’ll start with the Teen Titans.”
Pacing around the stage, he speaks, “Let’s just say that when the end of my time as Robin was approaching, I was not the best teammate. I had a bad attitude, I was lashing out, I was… I was just not a great teammate or friend. And this led to the end of my time an official Teen Titan. Yes, I do still sometimes help with their missions, or I help them out them out individually, but I most of my interactions with them are primarily minimal now.
“To give you the most basic run down of the situation, I was obsessed with outsmarting and beating an enemy that was way older than me and way more experienced. I had turned my grief into a hyper fixation onto something that I thought I could control. As you could probably guess, it didn’t end well. At all.”
Running his tongue along his teeth, he swallows, “I walked my team into a trap that led to them almost dying, and I had to do a lot of things I wasn’t proud of to save them. They wouldn’t have needed saving if I hadn’t been an idiot, so the entire problem could have been avoided if I hadn’t been a hot-headed idiot.
“I ended up training under him for a while. And he did teach a lot. What I learned from the man wasn’t just how to hurt people where it hurt, but also that morals are loose. There are no hard lines. There is no black and white. It’s just all various shades of gray.”
Dick looked down at his hands and made a fist, “I’d kill for the people I love with little to no hesitation. I almost did once…”
Fear. Rage. Blood splattering. So much laughter. And it felt good.
“People think that I’m this hero. But I’m not that. I’m just a man with enough resources and trying to help others.”
Nightwing looks past the audience.
“When I came back, I was… different. It took a few weeks, but I managed to reestablish some tentative trust with my team. It wasn’t the same and there was no chance of it ever being the same, but it was something. The family that I chose were back together, for better or worse.”
“That was… that was until we had a mission. The details aren’t important, but I-… I did something that shattered the trust with the person I’d been seeing at the time and with the team. I had been dating someone at the time, and let’s just say, it’s not a great idea to mix personal and work life.”
Clearing his throat and shuffling his feet, Dick explained the situation, “There was this shapeshifter. She needed our help and we, we didn’t exactly like her, so-. We were hesitant to work with them. There’s a lot of history and information that I’m skipping, but yeah. We basically wanted to help but not because she asked. She… well, I guess she had a certain level of fascination with me. She was jealous of someone. The certain someone that I had been seeing at the time.”
The crowd grumbles with discontent. Few could guess where the story was going to end up. Leaning over to their neighbors, they whispered their suspicions.
“So, so she shifted to look like her. And then, well. You can guess. But I thought it was my girlfriend. Of course, I wouldn’t have done it if I had known, but the damage was done.” Oblivious to it all, Dick confirmed their theories.
“We completed the mission, but I had completely destroyed the trust that Titans had put in me. Permanently. There was no more room for me to operate within the team. So, I left. It was better for everyone involved.”
Sucking on his teeth, Dick smiles bitterly, “A few months later, come to my surprise, I hear this awesome rumor floating around. You would never guess what it was.”
He lets the crowd think for a moment, “The rumor was that I’m easy. To be fair, I didn’t take the situation or the breakup well, and I had been sleeping around. So, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that I was the one who founded the rumor.
“But then, then I find out that it was my ex-girlfriend and one of my best friends who started them.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “The woman I thought I was going to marry and a guy I would literally take a bullet for. Yeah, I ruined what we had, but I really thought we respected each other. If not as people, then as coworkers. It was my fault, but-… yeah. I was slightly devastated.”
Slightly devastated being a gross underestimation of how hurt Dick had felt at the time.
Quickly moving on, Nightwing glosses over the pain, “I started dating a girl, who I admittedly probably was never going to marry, but I thought I could love her. So, we started talking, we hung out more, we went out on dates. And when I got frustrated and asked her why she never gave me full answers about herself, she informed me of my new reputation.”
Nightwing scoffs, “Apparently, I was the bicycle that everyone could catch a ride on. If you catch my drift. Lovely, isn’t it?”
Fiddling with the neck of his guitar, he starts to riff, “Anyways, this is the general vibe I get from other heroes sometimes. Some approach me expecting things and some hate me for being an apparent womanizer. I wrote this song in frustration. And heartache, honestly. But, yeah, it’s what I deal with now.”
What's your thoughts about religion?
Are you close to your mother?
Tell me 'bout your dream vacation
And all of your ex-lovers
Conversations that are important to have with potential long-term partners. Things that should be asked if looking for a long-term relationship.
Tell me now
What's that look on your face?
Dick remembers the look that he received when he’d asked too many questions. A sneer of distaste and disinterest.
Like he was just supposed to sit there and look pretty.
She puts her hand on my lips, begging
"Please, end this conversation"
At the time, he’d been taken off guard and more than a little hurt.
Baby said
"When you're talking, I go dead"
"Shut your mouth, give me your head" (uh-uh-uh-uh)
I know you really want to
Jason’s jaw drops. The audacity of the assumption alone makes his blood boil.
Baby said
"Let me taste your silhouette"
"You can talk between my legs" (uh-uh-uh-uh)
I know you really want to
Tim’s eyebrows enter his hairline. He was aware of the reputation that Dick had garnered, but he hadn’t realized that it bled into his life so much.
Tell me, what's your favorite color?
And all of your ambitions
Damian stands on the sidelines stoic. After being Richard’s Robin, he’d seen the people throwing themselves at him.
The people who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Robin would gladly wield his swords against them.
I'm not afraid of you being vulgar
But why are you so vicious?
Tell me now
"What's that look on your face?"
She puts her hand on my lips, begging
"Please, end this conversation"
Batman clenches his jaw. As Bruce Wayne, he’d encountered the same situations. But he had built the reputation himself.
Bruce had done it on purpose. Dick had not.
Baby said
"When you're talking, I go dead"
"Shut your mouth, give me your head" (uh-uh-uh-uh)
I know you really want to
The differences between Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are large, but they also have strikingly similar experiences.
Jason, having been a kid living on the streets, had seen situations where rumors like this had gotten people hurt. Gotten people killed. He started to see green.
Baby said
"Let me taste your silhouette"
"You can talk between my legs" (uh-uh-uh-uh)
I know you really want to
In all the ways that it matters, Bruce can never truly protect his eldest.
I was runnin' and runnin' and runnin' and runnin' and runnin' after you
I was runnin' and runnin' and runnin' and runnin' and runnin' after you
The desperation from Dick wanting to be loved is honestly getting to the point where it’s slightly pathetic.
I was cryin' and lovin' while you were just comin' and howlin' at the moon
Yeah, you were runnin' and runnin' and runnin' away from this conversation
Dick never could stop himself from loving hard and deep. Even if it came at the expense of himself.
Baby said
"When you're talkin', I go dead"
"Shut your mouth, give me your head" (uh-uh-uh-uh)
I know you really want to
Baby said
"Let me taste your silhouette"
"You can talk between my legs" (uh-uh-uh-uh)
I know you really want to (ow!)
I wish she didn't, but my baby said
Dick knew he hurt Kory, but he didn’t think that she would be so vicious to start rumors that hurt him.
I wish she didn't, but my baby said
Now women approach him acting entitled. Acting like he owes them sex.
I wish she didn't, but my baby said
I wish she didn't, but my baby said
The audience was torn between cheering for him and booing at the situation.
Gotham is a terrible city where a great deal of crime happens every day. And Gotham didn’t discriminate against the type of crime.
But there was one thing that the crowd were united in. One thing that they could all agree on.
Those who felt indignation on his behalf, who could relate to his situation, or could empathize for him felt a surgence in rage for the transgressions against him.
Nightwing purses his lips and blankly stares at the floor stage for a moment, “Yeah, so… anyways. I don’t really know why I told you that, but now you know.”
Gotham was angry. Furious at the people who took advantage of him. Who kept taking advantage at him.
And they had every intention of showing it.
Pops echoed as people disappeared.
Dick rapidly blinks and squeezes his eyes shut. Bringing a hand away from the microphone, he harshly rubs at his eyes until spots appear.
His mind swirls in a haze. His thoughts are hard to grasp, and he can’t quite remember why speaking about his songs was a bad idea. It feels so easy now where it used to be so hard.
But Dick feels good. Great, even. Better than he has in a long time.
His stomach flips with uncertainly, and something tugs at him at the back of his mind. But he can’t quite remember.
He knows it has to do with something about family… something about a secret. A secret that shouldn’t be shared.
Something that shouldn't be said even if he were about to die. But... but he wants to be free of its weight.
He wants to be okay again.
Shaking his head, and steeling himself, he remembers.
In moments like this where his resolve is weak, he remembers his mantra.
A personal mantra he crafted to stay focused, a whispered reassurance in the quiet hours of the night, a steadfast vow he clings to when silence is his strength.
Muttering under his breath, Dick stares blanky at the floor, “Hold fast to secrets, keep their stealth. In silence, your loyalty is whispered and felt.”
Something simple, but effective. Enough to keep him on the straight and narrow.
But a lingering thought plagues him. An afterthought he stubbornly denies. Unwilling to admit its existence in the recesses of his mind.
The loose thread, a delicate reminder of how fragile his current perspective is, poised to unravel and expose the simple truth.
The truth that would break him.“Yet secrets strain the bonds we weave, tangled threads that ache and grieve. Loyalty wanes with truths unseen, in shadows where doubt grows keen.”
Dick chews on his lips, his eyebrows furrow. He’s not allowed to think like that. Bad things happen when he thinks like that.
The people who he loves can’t know, it would ruin everything. It would, it would mean-
“N-…. wing… Nig-… Nightwing!”
Jolting from himself from his thoughts, Nightwing swings around to look at Robin on the sidelines. Struggling to clear the fog from his mind, he finds Robin’s scowling face.
He blinks and the world comes rushing back in. The lights become blinding, the sounds scrapping against his eardrums.
Struggling to reorient himself, Nightwing smiles against his uncertainty. Faking it always did make it for him.
He takes a breath to center himself, and switches back to his performance, “Anyways, moving on. After that, Young Justice also kindof… did the same thing but in a different way. Kinda because of the rumors, too?
“I made some leadership decisions that… weren’t smart in hindsight. I thought I did the best with the information I had-. I made a decision that cost me my best friend.”
Dick would never forget the sound of Artemis’s scream when the clouds settled. When the realization hit and the silence was louder than ever.
He looks down at his open hands. There’s no blood on them, but it always feels like there is.
Nightwing’s hands haven’t felt clean since the day his parents fell.
No matter how much he scrubs or disinfects them, the feeling of grime remains. They just get dirtier and dirtier with each passing day.
“I… I couldn’t deal with it. The loss. My newfound reputation. The anger. So, I left that team too.”
Red Hood and Red Robin shot confused looks at each other. Having been involved with both teams at some point, they knew better than anyone how Nightwing introduced them and how much Dick had adored them.
Red Hood has been involved with both teams until his death, before the teams fell apart. He hadn’t even thought to ask, but he had assumed everything was fine.
He had assumed that the teams that Nightwing had put blood, sweat, tears, and real effort would have his back.
Red Robin had been on the Teen Titans until recently and was a current Young Justice member. He never realized it, but the Titans never had spoken well of Nightwing around him. It was always snide remarks that he’d join in on figuring that they were joking and agreeing with him. Red Robin hadn’t meant it seriously, but now he wonders if the Titans had.
Chewing on his bottom lip, Red Robin leans closer to Red Hood. “Do you… what’s the timeline on this?”
Red Hood shrugs, “Dunno. Had to have been after I died and before I came back.” Pausing in realization, Red Hood mumbles, “Shit.”
Nightwing’s two main support systems were gone within two years of each other.
The teams that he had built on top of shattered dreams with blood, sweat, and tears. The families that he had poured countless sleepless nights and energy into.
Gone. Just like that.
Because of misunderstanding, miscommunication, and hurt feelings.
Dick had only been 17 years old when he left the Titans and 18 years old when he stopped being part of Young Justice.
A creeping feeling of unease was growing in their guts.
“They still occasionally reach out to ask for help when I’m needed. Which I always do. Help that is.
“But I went back home to Bludhaven. Kept my city safe. I occasionally got pulled back to Gotham, but Batman and Robin kept it safe, so you guys didn’t need me.”
The audience booed in disagreement.
“What?” Nightwing asks with his signature smirk. “It’s true! Batman puts the fear into criminals much more effectively here than I could. Plus, I didn’t stay gone.” He pops his hip out and rests his hand on it, “I was fine in Bludhaven until the infamous Red Hood showed up.”
Red Hood grimaces inside his helmet. Red Robin shoots him a glare.
They both knew where this was going next.