Chapter Text
The drive back to the manor is painful. Both physically and in terms of awkwardness. It’s quiet and Dick feels both grateful and resentful of the fact, not for the first time that week. When the Batmobile arrived, the both of them had climbed in, then Bruce pressed a couple buttons to activate the autopilot controls. From there, neither of them said a word to each other and elected to nurse their own injuries separately.
Twenty or so minutes later, they pull into the cave and Dick spies Alfred with scrubs on. From somewhere behind the light of the platform, Dick swears he sees a small shadow flit across. Probably Damian or Tim.
The doors swing up like a Corvette’s does and Dick steps out before Bruce, looking for all the world like a kicked wet dog. Alfred gives him a soft sympathetic look before his eyes scan behind him and widen as he spots Bruce.
“Goodness. What happened this time?”
Dick realizes at that moment that Alfred very likely doesn’t know what’s going on. Not because he’s not observant, but because the kids have the understanding that anything said to Alfred will eventually make its way back to Bruce. And they seem to have respected Dick’s wishes to not bring anything up until he dealt with it. Dick doesn’t know how to feel about this.
“Uh…” Dick’s at a loss for words here. His brain is not functioning like it should(he’s pretty sure he has a concussion). It’s too strenuous to think of a lie and too emotionally demanding to tell the truth. Thankfully Bruce covers his ass.
“We’ll explain later. The surgery is for my right arm and the calcaneal tendon on my left. Is Leslie here?” Bruce walks past Alfred to the Batcomputer and sets his cowl down. He inputs the password with one hand and seems to look something over while waiting for the answer.
“Alright. Leslie is not present, I was under the impression this was a minor surgery. Would you like me to call for her, Master Bruce?”
Bruce checks the time on his gauntlet and considers, “Yes, we should have a second person ready just in case. She can start then you can scrub in when you’re done looking after him.” Bruce nods his head toward Dick. Considering the disparity of their injuries, Dick’s surprised Bruce makes the effort to take care of him. It feels….Dick doesn’t know how it feels.
“As you wish, Sir.” Alfred walks over to Bruce and helps him out of the suit and then they walk together back to the surgical wing. Dick sighs and starts peeling his own suit off. A couple minutes later, Alfred comes back and walks over to him.
“Any injuries besides the obvious?” Alfred asks as he changes his gloves and picks up a small flashlight to check Dick’s eye dilation.
“Possible concussion, twisted ankle on the right side, I don’t know other than that. Still coming around.”
“Definite concussion. We’ll wrap the ankle in a moment.” Alfred confirms as he clicks off the flashlight, then he prods along the older healed chest injury carefully, “Any pain around here?”
Dick confirms dull pain and Alfred looks satisfied at that. Dull pain is normal, sharp pain would be concerning. They continue through the medical assessment methodically. It’s routine at this point and it brings Dick some kind of comfort to be looked after like this. Back in Spyral, he often had to tend to his own wounds.
Halfway through Alfred wrapping Dick’s strained ankle( You’ve got a tendon strain, Master Dick. It’s good news, because the ligament sprain recovery period is thrice as long) , the rumble of 2 motorcycles erupts from the cave entrance.
Thirty seconds later, Red Hood and Red Robin dart through the opening like it’s a race. Knowing them, it probably is. If so, Red Robin wins by a slim margin.
Tim takes his helmet off as they both park, “Ha! The reigning champion wins once again! The crowd goes wild!” He gestures triumphantly as Jason takes his own helmet off, who looks less than impressed.
“Only because you keep modding your stupid bike! Jesus Christ you’re insufferable. I’m never racing you again.”
“Spoil sport.” Tim accuses as they walk up toward the platform and over to the small medical table Dick is sat on.
“Whatever.” Jason finally looks at Dick and Alfred and his face scrunches in a grimace, “Damn, Dick, who’d you piss off this time?”
The irony of that statement is almost comical, considering it was Dick who instigated the altercation.
Dick nods toward the surgical wing, “You should see the other guy.”
Jason’s face drops in disbelief and he glances in the same direction as if that will give him any answers, “Wait, really? This soon?”
“Yup.”
“We heard from Oracle we might be needed back at the cave, but I didn’t think this was why.” Tim speaks up from behind Jason. Both of them have rosy cheeks from patrol and despite the situation, Dick finds it adorable.
Dick doesn’t respond as Alfred finishes wrapping his ankle.
“Master Bruce is in quite a state. I hesitate to ask what would inspire someone to cause such injuries.” Alfred says casually as he preps an IV for Dick, but it makes Dick’s heart drop a bit all the same. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation again.
There’s an awkward sort of silence for a beat before Dick speaks honestly, “I really don’t want to get into it right now.”
Jason and Tim share a sympathetic look and Jason speaks up, “We’ll explain later, Alf. Just know that he deserves every bit of pain he’s going through right now.”
Alfred looks between all three of them with a raised eyebrow, but thankfully doesn’t push the issue any further, “I expect a comprehensive explanation when you can manage one.”
Dick nods his assent and that’s that.
Half an hour or so later Leslie exits the elevator with her bag of instruments. She hurries over the platform and toward the surgical wing, not even bothering to stop and greet them. Business as usual. That’s what Bruce respects about her. With one more look over Dick, Alfred takes that as his cue to follow.
As soon as Alfred’s disappeared from view, the small shadow in the corner materializes. Dick is not surprised to see Damian, dressed in his Robin regalia, cross over to them.
“What did he say?” Damian demands. They all know he’s talking about Bruce.
Dick looks at the youngest with confliction. He’s too young to know everything. It’s not his responsibility to worry about his guardians fighting. But Damian is also the smartest boy he knows and he will know if Dick is lying or holding out on him. Dick has to be tactful and honest.
“Not much. He apologized and thanked me.” Dick keeps it short, not wanting to expose too many details.
“What? He apologized?” Jason interrupts.
Dick looks over to the second oldest and pleads with his eyes, “Yes. I will explain more later.”
“No, explain now! What did he apologize for? Do you believe him? Did you properly enact your revenge?” Damian prods with eyes full of fury.
“Damian.. Look. There are some things I just can’t tell you. You already know more than I would like.” Dick is as patient as he can manage, considering the weight of his limbs.
Damian puffs his chest, “I’m an assassin Grayson, not a child. You forget that I’ve killed with these hands. Nothing you know will ever shake me.”
Dick feels a stab to his heart at the reminder of the cruel world Damian grew up in. He remembers the vow he made with himself when he took in the youngest during the year Bruce was dead. I will provide Damian with a normal childhood, so help me God. And although being a vigilante is not ‘normal’ by any stretch of the means, Dick still did his best to provide Damian with time dedicated purely to developing his sense of self.
School, hobbies, outings, even chores, watching TV, and eating for pleasure were at the top of Dick’s help Damian become a normal child list of priorities. Amongst this list was not including Damian in any of Dick’s stressors, arguments, or letting Damian take care of him. Regardless of Damian’s unwillingness to admit it, he is a child and Dick is an adult. Navigating the reality of Damian’s trauma was hard at first, but over time, he slowly blossomed and was finally able to participate in many normal things, such as art events and even making friends.
Although Bruce came back from the dead and replaced Dick as guardian once again(which was heartbreaking in and of itself), Dick still holds himself to that vow. And he will be damned if he lets Damian get in the middle of his parents’ arguments.
“No. I am not having this discussion with you. If you want to be mad about it, then that’s fine. We can talk about why later.” Dick sets his jaw, ready for the oncoming argument. An argument that never comes.
Dick looks at the child and his heart breaks a bit more. Damian’s glaring, of course, but Dick sees the hurt betrayal in the way his fists shake at his side. Without a word, Damian turns around and walks to the locker room to change. Dick will have to find him later and talk about it in private. For now, Dick lets him storm off.
“Damn, dude. Harsh.” Jason says.
Dick sighs, “Yeah, well. It’s better for him to be angry with me than to know the extent of Bruce’s fuckups. You guys shouldn’t have included him in the first place.”
“You think we chose to? The little demon brat was incessant. He heard us talking and demanded to be looped in. When we refused, he just went behind our backs anyway.” Jason insists.
“Not surprised there.” Dick responds.
“But now that he’s gone, will you tell us what he said?” Tim asks.
Dick thinks for a second, debating if he even has the capacity to speak about it, given that he hasn’t even processed it himself yet. “No. I’m tired, guys. Can we just talk about this later?”
“Sure thing, Boss-man.” Jason must understand to some extent and Dick thanks the heavens that they move on and talk about something else.
It’s two days afterward that Dick finally feels okay enough to talk about anything. Bruce is stitched up and recovering as well as he can be. His arm is in a cast up to his shoulder, which looks a little funny considering how big Bruce is. His ankle is also in a shorter cast. Dick is surprised with himself at the amount of damage he was able to inflict on the older man. A pang of guilt hits him whenever he thinks about it.
Dick decided to stay at the manor, at the behest of Alfred and it’s sometime in the afternoon that Barbara and the boys(minus Damian) meet him at the dining table for lunch. Dick is spooning yogurt with berries into his mouth(a recent addition to his list of growing safe foods) when they approach one after the other. Barbara is first, then Tim, and finally Jason. If any of them notice his newfound ability to eat, they don’t mention it.
Alfred has laid out a spread of various fruits, dips, and veggies next to some cold cucumber sandwiches, which Jason immediately gravitates toward.
It’s through a mouthful of bread that Jason says, “So, Golden Boy. How ya doin’?”
The old nickname has an ironic connotation now that doesn’t escape Dick as he finishes his bite, “Fine. You?”
Jason gives him a look, “Just peachy. Look. You just beat the shit out of Bruce and are suddenly staying at home again? You are not fine, so don’t give me that shit.”
“Yeah, Dick. What happened?” Tim asks as he piles a small plate with sugar peas and hummus.
Dick notices that Barbara doesn’t say anything. She likely watched the entire fight through Bruce and his mask cams. Humiliation burns his cheeks at the thought.
To hide his discomfort, Dick groans exasperatedly, “Do I have to talk about it? Can’t we all just eat and talk about something else?” He knows it's futile, but the effort has to count for something.
They all give him a look then. He groans again.
“Fine. I tried talking. It didn’t work. He was dismissive and just generally being an asshole. I got mad. We fought. I won. He apologized and thanked me for being the best big brother in the whole wide world. There. Happy?” He’s deflecting a bit and they all know it, but he doesn’t want to move past the surface of facts at the moment. It’s a trait he seems to share with Bruce.
Barbara looks down, “How could we possibly be happy right now?”
The sentence sobers Dick to the reality of the situation and he drops his mask, “Of course you’re not.” Guilt weighs on him again, “I just don’t know what to say about it that you don’t already know.”
Barbara meets his eyes and within them, Dick sees fear. Of what, Dick doesn’t know, “I didn’t listen to the audio, Dick. I wanted to hear from you. You can be so stubborn sometimes. Why don’t you ever open up to us?” Why won’t you talk to me? She doesn’t say.
Dick feels simultaneously ashamed and irritated, “Why would I talk to you guys about my feelings? When have you ever given me the chance? You only started to care when I stopped pretending to be okay. You never cared enough to ask before. So why should I start telling you now?”
The three of them have the sense to look ashamed. Dick breathes deeply. He’s not really mad at them for asking. After all, at least they’re trying. But a part of him still feels resentful towards them for how long it took for them to notice or say anything.
“When did you ever give us the chance to ask? You were so adamant that nothing was wrong, so why would we question you? Besides, even if we did ask, would you have told us?” Jason looks just as irritated as Dick feels.
Dick thinks about it, “...No.”
“Exactly. We can talk about the past all day long, but the fact is that we’re here now. We’re asking now. So spill, Dickface.”
Jason’s bluntness is actually refreshing and Dick finds himself relaxing despite the harshness of the words.
Dick hesitates for a moment longer before he sets his spoon down properly, “I was very angry. Like scary angry. I...I was going to kill him, I think. At least that’s what I remember through the rage. But then I saw his face and I realized I didn’t want to hurt him like I thought I did. A part of me is still very very angry. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. But I don’t want him dead. He’s my dad.” His fragile voice cracks and splinters.
“I’ve…” Dick looks up toward the ceiling, willing the tears to evaporate, “I’ve been hurting a long time I think. Even before I died. Before Blockbuster and the destruction of Haly’s Circus.”
The others look down in sympathy. He knows that they remember just how messed up Dick was after the fact. That was the first time he thinks he’s ever not cared to keep in contact with any of them. The only sign he wasn’t okay. Considering how close he was to ending everything, he’s surprised none of them pushed him back when he pushed them away. They just let him.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to rest. As much as I don’t want to die anymore, I still remember what it felt like to be dead. I remember it so vividly.”
Jason looks at him with empathy, “It’s peaceful, isn’t it?”
Dick meets his eyes with his own glazed ones and chuckles humorlessly, “Yeah, Jason. Yeah. It was.”
The grim hush that follows only lasts for a second as Dick shutters a breath, “Sometimes I think I long for that feeling more than anything. Not because I want death anymore, but because, goddamn, doesn’t it ever get tiring? Aren’t you guys tired? I feel like I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes and I’m not even 30 yet.”
None of them say anything, which is a testament to how truthful the statement must be for all of them as well.
Barbara wheels closer to Dick and puts her hand on his shoulder in consolation, “Of course we are, Dick. But you’ve been carrying more than any of us can even fathom. You’ve been so strong. I’m sorry that none of us knew earlier about what you were dealing with. Or that none of us asked. You’ve done so well, Dick and I’m so sorry you had to deal with all of it alone.”
You’ve done very well, Dick. The same words Bruce said the other day echo back to him through Barbara. Dick shatters a bit under the relief they give him.
Because that’s all he’s ever wanted, right? Approval. Acknowledgement. Appreciation. Someone to tell him that they see him and all the pain he’s been enduring. To see through the bullshit and lies he spews on a daily basis. To care enough to ask.
And finally, finally after 28 years, he hears the words he’s been killing himself over. Not just once, but twice in one week. Although he loves people and the reason he keeps going is more than his own selfish desires. Even though he does what he does because he needs to uphold the happiness and safety of the people he’s sworn to protect. Still…Still. He can’t deny that a large part of him is as selfish as the next person. He’s selfish enough to yearn for the approval of his family.
Dick has run out of tears to cry at this point, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from becoming glassy as he slumps forward and puts his forehead on the cool wooden surface of the table. He stays like that for a while, just breathing as Barbara rubs his back like she did the other day.
“Yeah...I…yeah. Thanks.” Dick says lamely a few minutes later.
“Why don’t you rest now?” Barbara suggests.
“What do you mean? Haven’t I been resting for the last two months?” Dick lifts his head in confusion.
Barbara gives him a gentle smile, “Have you?”
Dick thinks back. Has he?
He stopped moving his body as much, sure, but he never felt rested. The entire time he was recovering, he was ruminating non-stop over the past. Everyday felt like pulling teeth, especially when he came into contact with Bruce. The tension never left Dick’s shoulders.
“....I suppose not.” Dick chews his thumbnail thoughtfully. Barbara swats at his hand and Dick drops it to his lap.
“Then maybe you should get away for a bit, yeah?”
Dick looks up at his brothers, who each shrug in his direction, like the suggestion isn’t completely ludicrous.
And…maybe it isn’t.
Dick’s heart does a swooping sort of flip at the thought of walking away, even for just a little bit. The feeling builds in him until he realizes that he’s actually excited at the prospect. Honest to god excited . He hasn’t felt this way in god knows how long. It’s been so long, in fact, that Dick wasn’t sure if his body even had the capacity for it anymore. He’s never been more glad to be proven wrong.
A smile breaks across his face the more he thinks about it, “Yeah, Babs. Actually, that’s a fantastic idea.”
Barbara's face mirrors his own as Dick contemplates where he wants to go.
“Okay then, Boy Wonder. Don’t worry about things here. We’ve got them for now. Just give us a heads up when you leave, yeah?”
Dick nods his head and he can’t contain the feeling any longer as he leans over and wraps Barbara in a tight hug.
“Thank you.” He says into her ear.
This time, there’s no apology behind the words. Just pure, grateful appreciation.
Barbara tightens her hold.
“We’re here, Dick. Please don’t forget that.”
Dick thinks about how hard it would be at this point to forget that, given how insistent and persistent his family has been recently. He thanks the heavens that he has finally stopped hiding. That his family cares for him. That he’s not hated.
That he’s alive.
“I won’t, I promise.”
The ocean he floats in is calm, the storm now some distance away. The current has stopped pulling at him and thrashing him about. Only the wind keeps him company as he breathes in the salty air. Above him, birds ride the clouds and squawk at each other. A couple of them make loops around empty space.
Dick stays there for a while, just enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin. The water laps at his chin while he floats, ever present. Dick looks around him at the horizon.
Something catches his eye in the distance. It’s….an island? He swears he sees golden sand and palm trees lining the sky. As he looks closer, he realizes that there’s people on the island. Multiple people. A spattering of dark hair, with a pop of red and yellow, even one gray. He counts the heads as he squints. There are nine of them.
Then he hears them over the gentle waves. They’re yelling at him and waving, beckoning him to shore.
Finally, after the moment settles, he starts swimming.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
-fin-
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Epilogue:
“Everything is fine , Dick. Stop worrying so much.” Barbara sounds exasperated, which Dick feels a tiny bit guilty for.
He’s been texting and calling her nonstop since he left, asking about the boys and Bruce. She’s threatened to block him twice now for acting like this, but Dick can’t help it. He’s worried about the city(and if he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared about what the boys will do to Bruce in his absence, even though they swore not to do anything).
“Okay, okay. The plane is boarding now and we’ll be in Cancun in about 8 hours. I’ll text you when we get there.”
“Oh, joy.” Barbara replies sarcastically, obviously still annoyed.
Damian pries the carry-on out of Dick’s hands and shoves it in the overhead compartment for him. The kid pushes Dick into his seat so that the line behind them can keep moving. He seems to share the same sentiment as Barbara.
“Okay, fine. I’m going. Talk to you later. Love you.”
“Love you too, Dick, but don’t talk to me unless you’re bleeding or on fire. Please. I can’t take it anymore.”
Dick rolls his eyes, “Yeah yeah.” And with that, he hangs up.
Damian grumbles next to him, still tired from the early morning boarding time, “Why you invited me onto this awful tin can, I’ll never know.”
Dick grins, “You’ll see soon, lil D. I still can’t believe you’ve never been to the beach.”
“I grew up on an island. I have seen the beach before.”
“Ah. But you’ve never experienced one before.”
And Damian has nothing to say to that. Dick laughs.
—
Hours and 2 flights later, they finally land in Cancun. The line for customs moves at a glacial speed and Dick practically vibrates with nervous energy the entire time.
Damian pulls on the sleeve of Dick’s light pink vacation shirt, “Calm yourself, Grayson.”
“How? I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. We’re gonna have so much fun, Dames. There’s waterslides and pineapple drinks and the hotel room even has its own jacuzzi. We’re gonna go paragliding and snorkeling and hike the mountain and oh my god I’m so excited.” Bruce had practically begged Dick to let him pay for the trip(including the activities) and although it doesn’t make up for anything he’s done, Dick’s not gonna refuse an all-expenses paid trip to the most beautiful place on the planet.
Damian gives him a soft look that Dick’s almost a hundred percent sure he’s never shown anyone else, “So you’ve said.”
Dick positively beams at him, “I can’t wait.”
—
They’re finally at the beach and Damian is beyond tired. Beyond irritable.
It’s taken a whole day of traveling and buses to get there, but they’re finally at the sweltering sand pit. After they set their things down in the hotel room, Dick had immediately shucked off his clothes and changed into swim trunks. After he made Damian do the same, Dick dragged him down to the beach just outside the hotel.
Dick, ever the people-person, has already made friends with a group of travelers playing beach volleyball by the time Damian sets up the umbrella and beach towel. Although Damian hates the idea of virtually everything involved with what they’re doing, he can’t deny the warmth that bubbles up when he sees his guardian finally smile.
It’s been way too long.
Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen his brother so relaxed. It’s a nice change of pace. Even though he doesn’t understand a lot of what’s happened recently between him and Bruce, Damian knows something very significant has shifted within Dick. He sees it in the way Dick’s cheekbones finally fill back in. He sees it in the way Dick’s eyes return to their vibrant, radiating blue, no longer the barren color of ash. He hears it in the way Dick laughs. Just the fact that Dick laughs at all is a gift, but the full-hearted belly laughs he gives make Damian’s own heart sing.
Finally, Finally, Damian has his brother back. Has his father back, for all intents and purposes. They’re finally alive at the same time. Truly, undeniably, indisputably, alive. Together.
And if Damian lets out his own blinding smile at the thought, well, no one except for Dick is around to see it.
.
.
.
.
.
.