Archive of Our Own

The heat was stifling . 

The summers of Morocco tended to leave its inhabitants stagnant until the sun laid low. Yet unlike any other day, there seemed to not be any reprieve from the usual gentle breeze.

The humidity that rose in the trailer had left Mary suffocated. The open windows made no effect and there was only so much that the obsolete trailer fan could do. 

For now, there seemed to be no escaping it. 

Both she and her son were laying on the small bed, stripped to the basics. Mary was wearing a simple satin gown with her bare legs splayed across the covers.  Dick was rolling about in just his diaper, using Mary as his own personal jungle gym. His tan skin had taken on a prominent pink tinge and his heat spots were much more visible. 

Closing her eyes, Mary willed time to go by faster. She could feel the beads of sweat roll down her chest- leaving another sticky trail. John had left about 45 minutes ago to pick up some ice cream. There was a dainty ice cream parlour a bit further up from where they’d set base, but both Mary and John made it a point to visit each time they came. 

The ice cream itself wasn’t anything extraordinary, but there was an abundance of intriguing flavours available at the store. It had been the neighbourhood jaddaat that had initially introduced them to the local delicacy the first time they came in 1995. 

‘Ras El Hanout’ translated as ‘head of the shop’ was an elite combination of different spices found in most middle eastern households, mainly used in traditional tagines and couscous dishes. The spice gave an earthy undertone, but when it was paired with the sickly sweetness of white chocolate — the taste was divine. Would leave any gourmet salivating for more. 

Precisely an hour since John had left, he re-entered through the side door, shuffling into the trailer, laughing his way towards the mother and son, hands fully occupied. “Alright! We’ve gotta eat this fast because it’s at the cusp of melting into my hands right now.”

Dick who had been preoccupied sucking at the ends of his mothers hair, perked up as he heard his fathers voice. Not wasting a moment, he scuttled off towards the edge of the bed. It was her newly bestowed maternal reflexes that allowed Mary to sit up just in time to grab the boy before he ended up planting straight, face down.

“He seems much happier.” John came over and gently flicked Dick nose. Dick only replied by batting his fathers hand away and scrunching his nose up.  “You didn’t throw another tantrum did you?”

That heat didn’t bode well with Dick. The usually well behaved child would throw a fit about the smallest of things, was irritable most of the time and had difficulty keeping an appetite. This combination also led to him whining throughout the night — not even managing to get a wink of sleep some days. 

Passing the grumpy child to her husband, Mary took the ice cream and after joining her on the bed, the family of three enjoyed their cold dessert- giving them a chance to ignore the sweltering heat for a short while. 

Sitting in his fathers lap, Dick kept eyeing his mother. His baby blues seemed to be intently studying Mary. Slowly leaning forward, Dick tried grabbing onto her. 

“Ma!” pushing John's arms aside, Dick reached his pudgy arms out towards the chain that adorned Mary’s clavicle. Grabbing on, his grip tight, Dick tried yanking the piece of jewellery off. 

“Oh no! Dickie! You need to let go.” Mary tried to dislodge his strong grip. “Dickie baby. No.” Chastising the boy, she gently tapped the back of his hands in reprimand once he finally let go. 

“Noo. Ma! Mm want.” Dickie continued to make grabby hands. Turning him around, Dick was made to face away from her and was given a wafer to keep him entertained. 

“Baby, no. You can’t have this. It’s mama’s.” 

John laughed at his boy's antics. “Well technically it will be his one day, no?” 

Mary raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, maybe. But that’s assuming we don’t have any other kids. Then we’d need to melt the chain into two or more.”

A sly smirk. “Oh ho. Are you suggesting something here, iubi? ”

John crawled his way to his wife and child. Swifty pushing both down to lay flat on the bed, he caged them both with his arms on either side of Mary. A soft brush of pink had started to paint Mary’s cheeks. Mary let out a little giggle and hit his arm.  

“ O, Doemne! Don’t you even dare to think about having another child. Our prihor is already a handful. No need for more.” Encircling her arms around her lover's neck, she pulled him further down. Before the two could advance any further – Dick squeaked when he was squished between the two – reminding them of his presence. Flapping his arms in retaliation, he smacked both his parents with his sweaty little palms. 

“Da, no!” Pushing his father back with the heels of his feet he draped himself over Mary’s stomach. “Mine.”

“Huh, looks like someone learned a new word.” Smirking at the boy, John intertwined his fingers with Mary, making sure the action was in line with Dick’s sight. 

A small growl-like noise came from the boy. Mary had to cover her mouth with her free hand to stop herself from laughing. Moving quickly, Dick tried to get his father to let go. Just as Mary had told off Dick earlier, he tapped on John’s hand and mustered up his best stink eye.

“Ma mine. Go off.”

Mary burst out laughing at that point scooping the boy back into her embrace. Covering Dick’s face with multiple sticky kisses, “My my, I hadn’t realised how possessive you were.”

John just stood there dumbfounded, as his 8 month old son looked over his shoulder and sent him a smug smile. 

Over time, Dick had learned to enjoy the warm climate. Had adapted as he grew. No longer did the blinding sun stop him from prancing around the circus grounds, or exploring the local streets of each new city with the other kids. There was a certain charm to those places, where the city came to life just as the sun would start to set. 

However, in that moment, all seemed in vain as he looked out the towering bay window of his new room, tucked tight into a ball in the corner of the too-large bed.

For Gotham had not been kind to him. Even the weather did not feel any pity for the boy, as rain pummelled continuously against the glass. 

It had only been 3 weeks since Mr Wayne had saved him from that hellish place and brought him to the safety of the manor. Two months since he’d watched his parents fall. 

“This will be your new home.” 

His new guardian paused. Seemed hesitant to continue, pondering on his choice of words. “I know it’s going to take time. Living in a new house and with those who are next to strangers. But the manor is your home now too.”

Compared to his real home the manor felt so stiff – too oppressive. As though there was something lurking in every dark corner, read to take him. He missed the bright light and laughter when he thought of the circus. Yearned for the family he’d lost. 

Dick remained huddled and waited for Alfred to call him down for dinner. Most days went by like this- on repeat. 

wake up - breakfast - study - lunch - dinner - bed. 

Of course living at the manor was far better than the detention centre, but he’d never felt more empty. Most days, he was left alone to his own devices. Some days Alfred would take him out shopping or to frolic in the garden as he worked his magic on the multiple flower beds.

Dick had to learn how to survive this new way of life but his mind continued to plague him both day and night. As soon as he closed his eyes, he was taken back to times that were too far from his reach now. Even the happier days haunted him now. 

He’d already attended his first gala. It was foolish of him to think that it would remind him of the circus. The gala took on the appearance of sophistication and luxury. Men and women decked in their best, dressed to impress. Yet underneath it all, there was only fake laughter, dirty smiles and ill-intent. 

Dick wasn’t stupid. They could act as much as they wanted. He knew what they really thought about him. The moment Bruce turned his back, the pleasant commentary and  praise turned into egotistical slander. 

A play thing, a charity case, a publicity stunt, a bed warmer. 

Lost in his thoughts, Dick was brought out of his stupor when there was a knock at his door.

With his voice cracking he called out, 

“You can come in.”  

Pushing open the door, Mr Wayne – Bruce, entered. Dick was confused to see the man. They’d barely interacted –  only a casual ‘morning’ here and there. 

“Dick. I hope I’m not interrupting.” Dick shook his head and untangled his limbs. Shuffling around the bed, he stood a few feet away from Bruce. 

Bruce beckoned the boy closer and crouched down to be face to face with the boy. 

“I know I haven’t been present since you arrived but there were a couple of major meetings at work that I couldn’t postpone.”

“S’okay. Alfred told me you were in charge of a big business. You are a busy man.”

Bruce shifted, clearly uncomfortable.

“Sure, I might have been busy but I should have been present. You are part of this family now. You should take precedence.”

Dick just blinked, face blank, no change to his countenance. 

“I’m not trying to make an excuse, but one of the other things I had been preoccupied with was trying to get in contact with the GCPD.” Bringing a bag from behind him, Bruce passed it to Dick. 

“These are a few things that the police had taken in as evidence. If it’s too much right now, you can always look through it another time.”

Gingerly, Dick looked into the bag. Glancing back at Bruce, the man gave an encouraging smile and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. Slowly, one by one, Dick took everything out. 

Inside had been his parents' sequined leotards from that night – though without the splashes of red, his fathers scuffled training shoes, a set of slim wedding bands, as well his mothers treasured gold chain. 

The chain still had the gleam as it always did. A shine in the dark like no other. The necklace wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple but intricate ‘curb’ style necklace with a t-bar clasp. With fumbling hands, Dick took the chain out. Held in his cupped hand, Dick brought it closer to his chest. Holding on dearly, the tears had already started to trace down his cheeks. 

The chain has been something his mother had always worn. A present from her own grandmother when she took off silently into the night to join her lover. It was the only solid piece left of her own family – her only reminder as the memories started to fade. How cruel it was for fate to play a different game but with the same ending. 

The lanț de aur now remained as Dick’s only physical connection to his own mother. 

Bruce squeezed Dick’s shoulder. Remaining by his side, Bruce let the boy have this moment. As the tears came to a stop, Bruce used his thumb to brush the remaining drops. 

“I have something else for you.” From the side drawer, Bruce brought out a box. In his hand was a dark wooden trinket box in the shape of a hexagon. It was small, about the size of Dick’s palm, with a delicate floral pattern engraved around the edges. 

Dick hesitated for a moment, but slowly, as though Bruce would retract his hand, he trailed his finger over the box. Peeking from underneath his long lashes, Dick looked at Bruce for permission. 

With Bruce giving him a slight nod in approval, Dick lifted the lid from its golden hinge. Instead of wood, the interior was lined with silk and a small cushion was placed in the centre. Under the tips of his fingers, Dick could feel the smooth, cold texture. It was similar to his mothers gown, but more expensive. 

Breaking the silence, 

“I have one just like this too, but just a bit bigger. It was a gift from Alfred. A way to store the pearls and keep them safe from further damage.”

Tilting his head, Dick looked at Bruce. Brows furrowed and innocent confusion across his face.

“You wear pearls?”

“Oh no. It's not like that. I personally don’t think I’d suit them.” A small giggle escaped Dick before averting his eyes back down at his shoes- a slight grin still present. 

With Dick’s shift in mood, Bruce felt a bit more encouraged. Lifting the boy's chin up with his index finger, he traced his thumb against the boy’s hollow, damp cheeks. 

“Remember how I told you that I was about your age when I lost my parents. I’ll spare you the details, but during the commotion my mother’s favourite pearl necklace snapped. Some of the pearls were lost. Probably still somewhere in that back street alley. The beads that they were able to find were either cracked or scratched up.”

Bruce gave himself a moment to breathe. The memory was old, the images had become fuzzy, but the sounds remained ingrained. The gunshot, the yells, the clattering of each pearl as they dropped. 

“As a child, I couldn’t remember a time when my mother wasn’t wearing that necklace. It was precious to her. My father had gifted it to her when I was born. I didn’t want to throw it away either. That’s why I keep the remains in a trinket box. To keep it safe.”

Bruce had unconsciously drifted. Looking back at Dick, his eyes had once again started to pool with incoming tears. Shit

“Chu-”

Cutting Bruce off, Dick’s grip on the chain tightened- knuckles becoming white. 

“Mama’s already in a box, why should her necklace be in one too?”

Bruce cringed. That wasn’t what he was expecting. Not at all. The boy kept his hold taut, eye’s glassy but determined. Unsure of what to say, Bruce tried to change the subject. 

Clearing his throat, “Let’s go down for dinner. Alfred should be coming up to call us any minute.”

A barely audible ‘okay’ was heard from Dick. Instead of returning the necklace or placing it elsewhere, the kid pulled the necklace over his head and pulled it down. The length of the chain wasn’t too long, but compared to the boy's small frame- it looked humongous.

Lifting up to his full height Bruce took the lead, with Dick following like a lost puppy, both taking off down towards the dining room. 

It came to be that even after all the years the broken boy lived with him, fought alongside him – Bruce never really figured out what to say. He never had the right words to soothe his fragmented soul. Never learned which ones further tore the kid apart. 

“Is the reason you and Bruce fight so much because you up and left to join a gang?”

Dick had to take a pause from pouring the batter into the waffle maker. Both boys were busy making a mess of the kitchen in hopes to somehow make something edible. Pancakes had been a failure, and now it was time to experiment with the waffle maker. 

Unsure if he had heard right, Dick looked over to the opposite side of the island at Jason, who rather than helping, was instead licking the remains of the batter from the spoon. 

“You think I’m in a what now?” Dick asked incredulously, hand on hip. 

“Come on, don't play with me, dickhead.”

“Uhh?”

“Dude, seriously, I’m not going to judge. I grew up in crime alley for fucks sake. It’s either the cheap gold chains or the signet rings. Sometimes the leather jacket, but that's usually for the lower level thugs.” Waving the spoon in the air, he added, “It’s like a form of unity. Kinda like a symbol. Maybe for recognition. Who knows.” 

Letting go of the jug with the batter, Dick slapped a flour coated hand onto his chest, a puff of flour fluttering into the air. He would have looked offended if it weren’t for the slight tug at the end of his lips. 

“Do I. Look like. As though I’m in a gang?”

Jason looked him up and down, smirking coyly. “If I didn’t know you were Nightwing, I’d definitely think you were one of those pretty side-boy pieces. But higher quality of course. You’ve clearly got the looks.”

Throwing his head back in laughter, the usual shit eating grin across his face, “Jay, I really don’t know whether to take offence or if it's a compliment.”

Jason just shrugged.

“Take it as you wish. I mean look, you're not even denying it either. A chain like that isn’t really elegant or classy enough to be worn by Richie Wayne either. So spill bro.”

It took Dick some time to compose himself. It wasn’t every day that you got asked by your little brother whether you were a member in a gang or just their sugar baby. Returning his attention to his waffles, he answered Jason. 

“Just so you know I’m not part of any gang nor am I anyone’s ‘side piece’ as you oh so eloquently described me as.” There was a snicker from Jason. “The necklace was actually my mothers. Wore it like her second skin, never taking it off. I usually wear it under my clothes when I’m feeling particularly homesick.”

“Shit, Dick. I didn’t realise.” The concern and guilt bled through. 

“Hey. Don’t worry. You didn’t know. Nothing to be worried about.” Dick tried to reassure Jason. He knew Jay was just joking around – he wasn’t the type to be deliberately insensitive. 

“No seriously- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“Jay, it’s s’okay.”

“But – ”

“Nope nope. I don’t wanna hear it. There are currently no adults in the house, and we need to take full advantage. Stop being a downer and help me decorate these waffles!”

Jason came over from his side of the island, and moved to stand side by side with Dick, bumping their shoulders together, a guilt ridden grimace still present. 

Ruffling the younger boy's hair, messing it up, and leaving it with patches of flour. Dick laughed, “Come on! Show me what monstrosity you can come up with.”

“Stop! – Dude no!” 

Jason had to forcefully pull Dick hands off his hair and flung a handful of chocolate chips in retaliation – successfully starting the first food fight of the night. 

Dick may have lost the chance of being an older brother all those years ago, but it seemed as though fate had given him another chance.

The trio were laying in bed, all cuddled together with Dick squished in the middle. John had just fallen asleep, his arm placed over Dick. The trailer had space for a smaller second bed, but Dick refused to sleep without his parents. A habit that Mary knew she’d have to break in a couple of months. 

“Baby, do you remember when we asked you if you wanted a sibling?”

A small yawn escaped the 8 year old boy, the back of his hand rubbing at his eyes. 

“Hmm. I think so.”

“Well I wanted to ask you again. How would you feel about having another sibling?”

A bit more awake, Dick looked to be in deep thought. 

“I wouldn’t mind being a big brother?”

“Well, in a couple of months you might have a new baby sibling.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really! When? Do you think I’ll be a good big brother?”

Mary grinned at the enthusiastic reply. There was no doubt in her mind that her boy would make an amazing older brother. His heart wasn’t big enough for the amount of love he contained. 

“Of course, Prihor. All you need to do is protect them. Love them just as much as you love mama and baba.”

“Okie! I can do that! I’ll be the bestest big brother.” Turning over underneath John’s arm to come face to face with his mother. “But where will the baby come from?”

Mary snorted. Yeah, she wasn’t about to open that can of worms. 

“Your baba will tell you in the morning.”

Dick had tailed his father the next day, persistent in his mission to learn the ‘hows’ and ‘whys’ of childbirth. Despairingly, John never got the chance. Too busy helping Haly and the others with the preparation for their first night in Gotham that year. The next morning, came not for the original duo. 

His world came to a screeching halt. 

He stood there frozen, near the entrance to the cave. His limbs went heavy, thought pattern becoming slurred. The high from completing his mission with the Titans came crashing down. It was as though the words didn't register in his mind; he didn’t want to believe them.

“What?”

Dick’s breath hitched as Bruce turned to look at him. The violent expression was directed right at him. 

“Robin’s dead.” 

Dick felt light headed.

“Wha-” He’s dead. Robin- no, Jason was dead. His little brother was gone. 

Buckling, he dropped to one knee. The air around him had gone stale. His eyes burned. 

No no no no no no. It didn’t make sense! Bruce was lying. He h- had to be playing a joke. A sick cruel joke. 

Whipping his head back at Bruce, his voice broken, “You're lying. Stop. Please stop. It’s not funny.”

Taking a heavy step forward, Bruce grabbed onto Dick’s shoulders. His grip, tight as a vice. Eyes which were usually hidden by the cowl were now obscured with fury – all that they held now was pure hatred. 

“And it's all-your-fault.”

Each word was a punch to the gut. Spat out with unadulterated rage. 

“If you had answered your damn comm, this wouldn’t have happened. Jason, would still be here!” Bruce's voice only increased in volume, the cave echoing each word. 

Jason was dead. His little brother was dead. And, it was his fault?

Dick went numb. Kept repeating the same thoughts in a loop. He hadn’t expected this. They had planned a movie night for when he came back. Dick was going to introduce the iconic film, ‘The Princess Diaries’, to him after they’d gone for chilli dogs – Jay’s favourite . From the dodgy stall in the dead end park near his old residence. Jason would have demanded they pick up snacks for the movie, the type that gave both of them a sugar rush. 

It was supposed to be a day for just them. Just Jason and Dick, not Robin and Nightwing. 

He didn’t understand. How could this have happened? This wasn’t supposed to happen. Dick has promised to keep him safe, to have his back. Like true brothers. Had he really failed that badly? Had he really lost his little wing?

He didn’t even understand how he had gotten to the other end of the cave. Laying on the cold floor, shoulder aching. Looking down at his arm, at the awkward angle, it didn’t seem right. But there was again no reaction.

He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone. 

Instead of sitting up, he lay there for a while, lost in his thoughts, one ear to Bruce’s distant rampage. 

Not long after, the vibrations from the ground that rippled underneath Dick slowly came to an abrupt halt. All Dick could hear now was the flapping of the wings from the bats that inhabited the nooks and crannies of the cave. 

The rhythmic beat got louder the closer it got to Dick. There was a pressure against his spine, lifting him up- shifting him until he lay in an embrace. Opening his heavy eyes, Dick looked at the man that held him. 

Maybe he loved him once. Saw him as his son. But that was a long time ago. When Dick’s mind and beliefs could still be reshaped to his liking. When all the boy wanted was a place in his life. 

The hands that held him trembled. Shook in conjunction with Dick silent sobs. 

Leaning down, pressing a quivering kiss to Dick’s temple.

“It should have been you.”

Silence. 

Had those words been spoken between Father and Son, it would have left one shattered. Heart broken to pieces. But Bruce wasn’t Dicks father. A solid pillar in his life, an indestructible feat. But he was not his father. 

But in reality, the truth was that Dick only wanted to agree. 

It had taken Dick weeks to get himself together.

For Dick, night and day could no longer be differentiated. Cooped up in his apartment, each day took the same course. The guilt, the shame- both drowned by the bottle. Glued to his sheets, the tear tracks had become near permanent. 

Dick hadn’t felt like this in a while. Hadn’t let himself fall apart like this. The cycle of depression he thought he’d left long ago had entrapped him once again. Yet, this time there was no hope for the better. There would be no light at the end of the tunnel, just endless darkness ready to consume him. He had come to terms that he was not entitled to love, to a family. It was the bitter truth. 

What horrible deed did he commit in a previous life to be entitled to this pain? 

Just as the pain started to settle, like an ache in his bones, Dick realised that he’d missed the funeral. Turns out he was one of the last to know. 

The sick part of it, what haunted Dick the most of all, was that there were only a few people who knew Jason, who would truly mourn for his loss. Not Robin, but Jason. The league would have attended Robin's funeral but only a few would have been at Jason’s.  

Bruce, Alfred, Leslie, Lucious, Barbara, Gordon? 

He deserved so much more. 

He’d only just adjusted to Gotham Academy. He usually preferred to stay within the comfort of the Manor when he wasn’t out patrolling at night. Sometimes Dick would invite him over to Bludhaven every other weekend – to let the kid relax, or when the Titan’s planned a night out together. Jason had grown on them all, the honorary baby brother of the team. 

Everyone knew of the street kid that Bruce adopted with the rough exterior and trust issues. But only a few knew of the real Jason. The boy with a heart full of gold once you broke through the built up walls. The boy who had a genuine passion for his academics and all things Jane Austen. 

Dick was plagued with the voice of Jason each time he closed his eyes. The recording from the comms may have been scratchy and broken up, but the desperation and anguish was clear. Jason needed him. 

He’d promised himself and to his mother that he’d protect his brother. To be there for him at all times.  But he’d failed. His brother was dead. And there was nothing that Dick could do.

Eventually, two months on, Donna was able to take a partially sober Dick to the grave. She watched first hand as the man- the first boy wonder, broke down. 

The door was heavier than normal. Dick had to give it a hard push for the door to open. A little chime hung above the door that tinkled as Dick entered. The sound must have alerted the shop owner as the elderly man turned behind the workshop counter to give Dick a warm smile and his full attention. 

“Welcome! My name is Saad. How can I help you?” His voice was heavily accented but it remained level and warm – welcoming. 

Dick was beckoned forward and gestured to take a seat at the counter. The place was small and gave off an aureate glow- the walls were lined up with the man’s finest workmanship. 

Sniffing the air, Dick was taken aback by the flash of childhood memories. It felt easier to breathe in the woody smell with notes of leather and spice. He felt his body relax after so long.

“As-Salamu Alaykum.” His pronunciation would have been awkward at best, fumbling over the sounds, but the jeweller's face lit up. His mother had been right, ‘to truly reach someone's heart, you must speak its language.’

“I was wondering if it would be possible to personalise a piece of jewellery. Add something to it. It’s a bit old though.” Bringing a pouch out of his coat pocket, Dick opened it up to reveal his mothers necklace. 

“Of course! But I will have to check the chain beforehand. To ensure that I don't induce further damage.” Beaming at Dick, the jeweller brought out a monocular eyepiece, designed specifically to magnify. Gently picking up the chain, he examined it closely. 

“The chain is made out of pure gold. That I can tell. I will need to check how many carats it is though.”

“Is it strong enough to be altered?”

“My boy. This is gold! It can withstand a lot throughout its time. Remember, when gold is beaten, it shines .” 

Huh . Dick let the words sink in. It spoke volumes. More than the man could even know. His eyes looked over to Saad, with the appreciation he couldn’t verbalise. Whispering, “I guess you’re right about that.”

“How do you wish to personalise this necklace?” 

“This is probably going to be a weird request, but I wanted to add a small name plate. Not made out of gold though”

“Oh. What would you like to use instead? Silver?” 

Shaking his head, Dick brought out a small piece of dark metal from the same punch. The fragment was rough with uneven edges. 

“You wish to use this?”. The jeweller appeared confused, rightfully so. 

“Umm, yeah. I know it may clash with the gold, but it’s got a deep meaning behind it.”

Nodding at himself, “If you are sure, then we can continue with this. But before we start, I need to take some information first, as a safety requirement. To ensure you that your jewellery is in safe hands.”

“Sure, that's fine.” There was a buzzing feeling within Dick’s chest. Both excited and anxious. 

The jeweller went to the back of the workshop and brought out a couple of sheets of paper. Dick was instructed to read through each contract as well as the risk assessments. Saad also went over the different fonts and cursive writings that he could do. He also asked what shape and size Dick wanted the nameplate to be. It was decided that the piece of metal would be cut and polished into a rectangle with a soft edge, plus the engraving would be filled with liquid gold. To make the letters more prominent against the dark background. 

Once that was finalised, Saad gave Dick a piece of paper, “Can you please write what you wish to engrave.”

With the pens, Dick wrote down each letter with care and precision, a wing drawn at each end. 

JAY 

Nearly half a year later, Nightwing made his return. And so had another Robin. 

Tim was just a bit younger than Jason. His fighting skills still required polishing, but there was something inside of him that goaded him to continuously learn, to improve. He’d taken leaps when it came to his training since he first started. Dick had personally taken it upon himself to train the boy. Being book smart or a skilled hacker wasn’t going to do much when dodging bullets and knives. He had to make sure Tim was fully prepared. 

Tim reminded him of Jason at times. They appeared to be complete opposites, but when Tim looked at Dick, his eyes glistened in awe just as Jason’s once did. 

During this time, Dick went back and forth between Gotham and Bludhaven. He couldn’t stand staying at the manor for too long, staying under the same roof as Bruce. Their relationship as Bruce and Dick was tethering.

But he needed to be here, for both Tim and Robin. 

It was after their gruelling sparring session, both completely out of breath, laying flat against the mats, that Tim asked the question. 

“The necklace you're wearing. It was hers, wasn't it?”

Pushing back Tim's sweat slick hair, Dick replied with a fond chuckle. The kid had a keen eye, memory sharper than a blade.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

Dick could say with pride that he’d done what needed to be done. Unhinged he may have been, but the bastard deserved it. The man- no the monster wasn’t going to take away another one of his brothers. It would have been a service to Gotham, but her knight in shining armour thought differently. Leaving the citizens of Gotham to continue to fester in the cycle of toxicity at the hands of the clown. 

It had taken Jason years to get to this point. He could finally fight alongside his alleged ‘siblings’ rather than against them. Sure there were times where all he wanted was to bash his head against the nearest wall or run to another city and hibernate. But, the dynamic between himself and his family was improving. 

Slowly but surely. 

The green no longer controlled him. The rage was still there, but with time he’d learnt it was either he who controlled it, or he would be the one controlled. It was a rough battle, too many close calls, but Jason was proud of himself. He’d dealt with enough bullshit in his lifetime. 

When he first arrived back in Gotham, he had every intention to set the family ablaze. To make them repent for the shit they left Jason to deal with. For leaving him behind. For replacing him. 

Yet clearly that plan didn’t work out. Hence why he was currently in this situation. Watching the office building in front of him create a premature sunrise, the orange-red hues lighting up the sky. 

The heat sensors within his helmet had alerted him of the increase in temperature before the bomb had blasted, giving him the heads up to sprint off at top speed and take cover. 

Fuuuck. This was not part of the plan! It was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out. Done and dusted. 

The noise of it all still had his ears ringing, even with the added protection. Jason groaned and started to count backwards, trying to level out his breathing. 

Ten, nine, eight, seven, si- shit. He’d forgotten about Dick! 

Both Dick and Jason had planned beforehand to infiltrate the base from different points. From above and below. And it only made sense if Dick entered via the roof, but right now that seemed like a very, very poor idea. 

Praying that Dick hadn’t gotten too far with his objective, 

“O, I need Nightwing’s location now!”

“Two streets down, near the corner shop.” Jason could hear the strain in her voice. She must have heard the blast via the comms. 

Already running towards Dick’s location, Jason dodged a couple of thugs, throwing them aside to be dealt with later. Rounding the corner, Jason spotted Dick amongst the rubble. 

Nightwings uniform was torn straight across his chest and his leg lay in an unsightly position. There was a large metal beam that lay across his torso, trapping him in. Jason quickly gave him a once over – if he lifted the beam, we would be able to drag Dick out, but there was a risk of causing Dick further damage. 

“Shit”, whipping his head, Jason turned around to see Damian. Barbara must have informed him of the situation. He mustn’t have been too far out to have arrived so quickly. 

To be honest, Jason didn’t really have the time to deal with the kid. Not when Dick was very much bleeding out right beside them. 

“I’m going to lift up the beam. You're going to pull him out.”

For once in his life Damian just nodded. Didn’t fight back or complain. He simply dropped to his knees beside Dick and held out his arms. 

Jason grunted at the weight of the beam. Using all he had, Jason lifted the beam a couple of inches – enough to get Nightwing out. Damian did quick work, and Jason was able to let go. The beam must have been compressing down on the large wound that lay just above Dick’s hip bone. Without the pressure, the blood surged to the surface, turning the suit blue to black. 

Without prompt, Damian took off his cape and pressed down on the wound. 

“Use these to call the Batmobile.” Jason caught the keys as they were thrown. “It will be faster to take him ourselves. The car isn’t too far.”

With both the heroes focused on their current plan of action, getting Dick to Leslie’s clinic was easier than expected. 

Once they were settled in the Batmobile, Jason had called Leslie in advance, informing her of the urgency of Dick’s present condition. They could have taken him back to the Batcave, but from what Jason could tell, even they wouldn’t be able to handle this situation. Their medical expertise only reached a certain level.

Trying his best to drive at a speed that wouldn’t jostle Dick too much, Jason looked back through the internal rear view mirror. Damian had Dick’s head in his lap and was doing his best to apply pressure on the wound. The worry was evident in his expression, reinforced by the slight tremble of his hands. 

“You’re driving like a maniac! It’s like you want him to be in more pain.” Damian growled at Jason looking straight back at him through the mirror. 

“We’ll it’s either I hurry the fuck up, or Dickiebird here bleeds out. So shut up and just keep applying pressure.”

Jason had gotten better with his words but under pressure it was too easy for him to snap. He’ll apologise to the brat later. He knew the kid was just scared, for he had his father-like figure unconscious in his lap. 

Once they’d reached the clinic, Leslie was already waiting for them with a stretcher and a couple of nurses at hand. Exchanging a couple of quick greetings Jason got to work extracting his brother from the back seat. 

Within seconds they were inside, swarmed by the machines and nurses. 

“I understand that you want to be here with him, but for now I need you two to step back so we can assess him. You guys already know where the waiting room is.”

Damian was about to protest, but Jason held onto his shoulder and squeezed down hard as a reminder that they were in a hospital. A tantrum wasn’t going to slide by. There was a huff from Damian before he twirled around and stalked off to the waiting room. 

Jason nodded at the nurse, before following the baby bat to the waiting room. Tilting his head back against the wall, Jason took in a deep breath and tried to stretch the tension out his neck.

Thinking about it, back to when he first returned to Gotham, Jason knew he had directed a lot of rage at Dick. His anger was just, and he didn’t really feel guilty about it if he was being honest. But he couldn't ignore the effort the dude had taken to get him re-introduced to the family. Dragging him to the manor for family events and birthday parties, dropping by randomly at whichever safe house Jason was using at the time, texting him religiously at least once every day.

He wasn’t blind to the tension that ran between Dick and Bruce, but Dick still did everything in his power to get the two to reconcile. Sure there had been ups and downs in their relationship, but Jason hadn’t made it any easier for Dick either. 

But, there had been progress in recent months. Last week Dick had dragged Jason back to his apartment after patrol so that he could introduce the movie, ‘The Princess Diaries’ to him. Dick had been raving about the film the whole time, only for him to knock out not even halfway through. 

Jason scoffed. The bastard wasn’t allowed to die just yet. They still had a movie to finish. 

Picking up a conversation from across the room, Jason could hear Damian speak over the comm line. He was most likely updating everyone. 

Sometimes Jason forgot how young Damian really was. Underneath all that bravado, he was still just an insecure little kid. The bloodshot eyes and restless legs attested to that. 

“He’ll be fine, you know. He’s a fighter and he's a stubborn one at that too.” 

Damian clenched his hands that lay in his lap. A small whisper was heard, “I know...” Jason barely caught it as the nurse from before came running in. 

“Dr Thompkins has requested if someone could come help deactivate the safety mechanisms within the suit. We won't be able to cut through without doing so.”

Within seconds, Jason was following the nurse after glaring down at Damian and demanding that he sit the fuck back down. The kid didn’t need to see whatever state Dick was in. 

“He must have been in direct line of the bomb explosion. There are a couple of burns but they should heal without issue. The suit was able to save him. We were able to stop the bleeding from the wound, it was deep but not fatal. As soon as we perform the CT scan, we can take him to the theatre and investigate further. There is also a high chance that he’s broken a couple of bones too.”

Jason took all the information in, and walked up to Dick. He looked like shit, but it was reassuring to know his life wasn’t in any sort of danger. Disabling the safety locks on the suit, Leslie then came forward with the special scissors that allowed for Kevlar to be cut through. 

Whilst peeling back the skin tight suit, there was a glint that caught Jason’s eye. 

Oh. Jason didn’t really think that Dick was the type to wear jewellery as heavy as that. He was more of a dainty earring type of guy. He’s pretty sure he’d seen Dick wear drop earrings from time-to-time. But, rather than pounder on that Jason quickly traced his hands to the back of Dick’s neck until he found the clasp and took the chain off, shoving it into his jacket pocket. 

Gathering the remains of the suit, Jason returned back to the waiting room. 

Turns out Dick had also broken a couple of ribs, fractured his right leg as well as a concussion. The wound above his ribs had been cleaned and disinfected, to reduce the risk of infection further down the line. There was quite a bit of blood loss, but not enough to require a blood transfusion. 

Most of the bats had dropped by to check up on Dick as they each finished off their patrol for the night. Bruce had stayed the longest before he headed back. Fretting over the medical records and scrutinising the report back from both Jason and Damian. No matter how bad Dick and Bruce’s relationship could be, there was a connection between the two that no one else could override. 

On departure, Bruce had to practically drag his youngest son back home as he fought to stay beside Dick.  Jason had agreed to stay since his patrol had been cut short quite early on into the night. He wasn’t as tired as the rest. Plus, Bruce had agreed to relieve Jason of his bedside duty the next morning. 

Sitting in the ‘Wayne’ private room, Jason had his legs propped up and was reading through his next novel. Paperback would always be superior in his humble opinion, but reading on his phone was a lot more convenient. 

Shifting his position to avoid his butt going numb, Jason felt the piece of jewellery he’d deposited in his pocket a while before. His curiosity piqued as he brought the chain out. Jason was certain he’d never seen the necklace before, but it felt as though he did. Images swirled in his mind, but they remained unclear.  The chain was made completely out of gold, except for a small rectangular plaque that lay in the centre. Jason trailed his finger along and brought it closer for inspection. 

Jason nearly dropped it.

There on the necklace that Dick wore was his name written clearly in all caps in gold. Two small wings decorating either side. 

“When the fuck did he get this?” 

He understood the meaning behind the necklace. Well, he thought he did. But he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Why? It’s not like they were that close. Well, from what he could remember it didn’t seem so. 

Stopping himself mid thought, ‘It could be for another Jay. Dick has multiple friends both heroes and villains. This could be for anyone. This doesn’t automatically mean it’s for me’ 

“Jay?” 

The small whimper came for Dick. He tried opening his eyes but cringed when the bright hospital lights assaulted his eyes, causing another small whimper. 

Jason jumped up and came closer to Dick. 

“Hey, how you feeling?” Jason had unconsciously swept a piece of stray hair from Dick’s face, quickly retreating his hand back once he realised what he’d done

“Poopy.”

“Well that’s what happens when you get caught in a bomb blast.” Jason chuckled as Dick stuck his tongue out at him. Using the remote, Jason propped Dick up slightly and fluffed his pillows that surrounded him. Even with pain meds being pumped into him, Dick still slept like an octopus. 

“I’m going to call the nurse. Hold on.” 

By the time both the nurse and Leslie had checked over Dick, he was much more conscious though a bit loopy. A side effect of the concussion and his current medications. 

With Dick still out of it, Jason decided this would be his best chance to ask about the necklace. If he was wrong then he could just pretend the conversation never happened. 

“So..the necklace. It had m-my name on it.” 

Lolling his head to the side, Dick looked at Jason with a smile. “Hmm. You likey?”

“Sure. Real cute. But why?”

Dick just shrugged his shoulders, averting his eyes away from Jason. Not wanting to give up, Jason tried another approach. 

With his voice light, Jason jokingly asked, “I don’t get why you didn’t just make the plaque from gold? Was I not worthy enough for that?” 

Dick remained quiet. Just as Jason was about to repeat the question, assuming that Dick hadn’t heard him, Dick started to quiver. Tears started to roll down his cheeks, his breath hitching. 

Shit! 

Gripping the blanket that was draped over him, Dick replied, his voice breaking up,  “No! N-n-never.” 

Jason quickly placed his hands on Dick’s arms, moving his hand up and down in hope to placate him. “Dickie, I was just joking.”  

“The p-piece of metal was from t-the warehouse.”

Jason went stiff. 

“ The warehouse ?” 

Dick gave a weak nod. 

Jason’s vision tinged with green. Like a flip of a coin, Jason latched onto Dick’s left arm. There was a sharp hiss from Dick, but he didn’t try to dislodge himself. Breathing heavily through this mouth, “I know you’re high as a fucking kite right now on those drugs, but what-the-fuck. You can’t just-“ 

Dick brought his hand up, and cupped Jason’s cheek, effectively cutting him off. 

“When you first came, I was unreasonably angry that Bruce had given you Robin. Robin- prihor, had been the nickname my mother gave me. I was possessive over it amongst other things. I shouldn’t have acted as an asshole, but I did. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you either.”

Dick paused, trying his best to keep the panic out his voice as he tried to explain everything to Jason. 

“But slowly, after establishing myself as Nightwing and actually spending time with you, I started to see you as a brother. And it only made sense that you wore the family colours.”

“I’ve never been able to see Bruce as my father, but you-”, Dick tapped Jason’s cheek, “you were my annoying little brother. You gave Robin another meaning. Not vengeance, but family. ”

Jason’s grip had relaxed slightly, his heart was racing after everything he’d heard but he still held on. “That stil-”

Jason was cut off again. Jason couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes.

“The necklace held onto my mothers last breaths. It’s what made it so special to me. The piece of metal held onto yours.”

Jason’s eyes grew wide. Abruptly Jason let go of Dick, and scrambled to stand up – away from Dick’s tender touch.

“I promised I would protect you! But I failed. I wasn’t there for you. And for that I am sorry.”

“Dick, stop. Please.”

Dick was shaking again, “I’m so s-sorry Jay.”

It was too overwhelming for him. He wasn’t ready to hear all that. He didn’t even realise that he and Dick had been that close once upon a time. He wasn’t worthy of all this. Not after all he had done. Old conversations resurfaced, echoing in his mind. 

Jason felt the room cave in. Everything had gone quiet. 

“Little Wing?”

Whipping his head towards Dick, Jason took in his appearance, broken both physically and emotionally, and for what? For Jason? It just didn’t make sense to him. 

“Jay, please come here.” Dick had shifted aside making space for Jason on the hospital bed. 

“Dick, no. I’ll end up hurting you.”

“Jason..please.”

Unable to put up a fight, he lay down beside Dick, placing his head on Dick’s uninjured shoulder. Automatically, Dick began to caress his hair.

Jason hadn’t realised how tired he was. How tired he’d been for so long. He felt some of the stress disappear as Dick placed a light kiss at his temple. 

Jason found it difficult to speak, choking on his words. 

“I wish you had told me earlier. Maybe I wouldn’t have been such a bitch. All I remember from then was the r-rejection. How it felt as though I would never be good enough for those pixie boots...”

“I could have. There were so many little things I wanted to remind you of. But that wouldn’t have been fair to you. Remembering the old Jason felt wrong. Not when you were right here with us again. Alive .”

“And then with time I realised, as much I loved my little wing, I had to learn to love the new you. My little brother had grown – had started his own fight against injustice. One I needed to respect, even if it didn’t match my own morals.” 

“You gave hope as Robin, protection as Red Hood. And as Jason, you taught me that family is more than just blood.” 

Hearing those words broke something inside of Jason. His eyes welled up with tears, unable to hold them back. Pressing his face further against Dick’s shoulder and pillow, he tried to muffle the sound of his sobs. 

“ Fratele meu . Always will be no matter what. I couldn’t be more proud of who you’ve become even after all that you’ve had to face.” 

The two remained there on the bed. Holding onto the past but also the present. There was still so much to unravel, more tears to be shed. But in that moment, it was just the two of them.