Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dick Grayson was going to die. This was it, this was how he went. It wasn’t with his parents at age eleven, falling from a broken trapeze (sometimes he wondered if it would have been easier that way. Certainly less painful). It wasn’t anytime in the next five years, clawing his way through Gotham’s broken foster care system. 

No, Dick Grayson was killed by the sight of Cardinal, his favorite hero and celebrity crush, swinging out of the darkness and landing on the rooftop next to him.

He was even more beautiful in person, with perfectly shaped cheekbones and god, those biceps. Dick pictured himself wrapping a hand around one and squeezing. Then he realized he wouldn’t be able to fit his entire hand around the muscle, it was too big, and he shivered in delight.

“What’re you doing up here, kid? It’s not safe in Gotham at night. Or ever, really.” Cardinal added under his breath. He then took in Dick’s proximity to the edge of the roof and spoke in a softer voice. “Hey, you okay?”

Dick snorted. “I’m not suicidal, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He then realized those were his first words to Cardinal. ‘I’m not suicidal.’ Great first impression, Dick. Nice going. He’s totally gonna fall in love with you now. “I’m also not a kid. I’m sixteen.”

“That’s exactly what a kid would say.” Cardinal swung his legs over the side of the building and sat down next to Dick. If he wanted to, Dick could reach out and run a hand down the front of his red armored suit. It was a heady feeling.

“Right. Because people love to be called kid by someone their own age. Not patronizing at all, right?”

To Dick’s surprise, Cardinal laughed. People oftentimes mistook Dick’s quippy nature for rudeness instead of the defense mechanism it was. It took several visits to detention, a lot of unhappy foster parents, and more than a few dark bruises for Dick to learn his lesson. It wasn’t safe to be honest, and it wasn’t safe to speak his mind. People said they wanted honesty, but they were actually asking for someone who told them what they wanted to hear. So Dick did. He gave the right answers in class, he politely responded when spoken to, and he was vindicated by the knowledge that they would never know who he truly was. If people didn’t like him, that was fine. They were hating a persona that Dick had crafted, not the real thing.

Which was why his response to Cardinal was a surprise. Sure, he spoke like that in his own mind, but it usually took a lot (and he meant a lot) of time before he trusted someone enough to voice some of those thoughts out loud. There were currently only a few people in his life that had that privilege: Barbara, Stephanie, and Damian. He was getting there with Alfred.

“Fair point. So what are you doing out here so late?”

Dick shrugged, looking out across the city. “Needed space.” It was partially true. He had an easier time thinking up high. But the last person he told that to looked at him like he was crazy, and for Gotham, that was saying something. So needing space it was.

“Ah. Family problems?”

Dick laughed. “No, definitely not. It’s the best place I’ve lived since…” home “a long time.”

“But?”

Dick shrugged. “No buts. It’s a good place with good people. Gets kinda lonely, but I’m used to it. I’m not sure anyone really wants me there, but that’s nothing new.”

“No?”

“No.” Dick leaned back on his hands and felt the weight of Cardinal’s gaze brush over him. He resisted the urge to arch a little under those eyes. Now was definitely not the time. “You probably didn’t come here to listen to me talk about my problems. I’m okay, so you can go back to helping people who need it. Saving the world.”

Cardinal didn’t move from his spot. “Would you believe me if I said it’s a slow night?”

Dick snorted. “It’s Gotham.”

“Yeah, well, there are like twenty of us who patrol the city, and Batman loves putting me on the safest, least eventful patrol routes.” His voice had a thread of bitterness in it.

Dick couldn’t believe he was really here, talking to his childhood hero like they were old friends. He wondered what he could do to make Cardinal stay a little longer, then felt guilty for the thought.

“Does he get overprotective a lot?”

“Who, Batman?” Cardinal barked out a laugh. “You can’t imagine. He keeps trying to send me after regular henchmen, like I haven’t held my own against villains like Two-Face and Penguin. The Gotham Sirens are practically my aunts, for fuck’s sake! It’s a little too late to keep me away from the crazy now.”

Dick wondered how he would feel in that situation. On one hand, he always hated being caged in. On the other, it was nice that Batman wanted to spread a safety net beneath Cardinal, whether or not it was needed. He hadn’t had someone there to catch him in… a really long time.

“Does he treat the other bats like that as well?”

Cardinal flopped back onto the roof with a groan. “Yeah, right. They practically get free reign of the city. And don’t even get me started on how protective they are. They’re worse than he is!”

Dick glanced over, intrigued. “Even Shadowbat?”

“Especially Shadowbat. He’s just grumpier about it. The only one who doesn’t baby me is Red Hood, but I’m still not entirely sure he doesn’t want me dead.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Cardinal paused. “… it’s a sad story.”

“Oh.” Dick knew a thing or two about those. “Let’s save that for a different day.” Then he realized he’d just implied that they were going to see each other again. “Uh, I mean. If we happen to run into each other again. Not that I don’t want to! Cause I do. I mean-” Shit.

“I know what you mean.” Cardinal watched in amusement. After a couple seconds, an emotion flickered across his face, to quick to identify, and he opened his mouth to say something. Before he could get the words out, his head tilted and his hand went to his ear. “Uh huh. Yup. Everything’s good over here.”

It took Dick an embarrassingly long time to realize he was speaking into some sort of communication device. “I already told you that.” Cardinal rolled his eyes and mouthed Boomers, am I right? Dick stifled a laugh. “You got it, boss man.”

Cardinal ended the call, then pushed off the ground and offered Dick a hand. Dick let out a gasp as he was yanked to his feet. Cardinal was so effortlessly strong that Dick almost collided with his chest, stopping just a few inches shy. From up close, it was easy to tell just how much taller than Dick he was. God, everything about him was just perfect. He wasn’t drooling, right?

“You gonna give that back?”

“Huh?” Dick followed Cardinal’s gaze to his hand, which was still holding Cardinal’s in a death grip.

He quickly let go, stumbling a few steps back in his haste. “Sorry. I- sorry.” He hoped it was dark enough to cover his blush.

Cardinal just gave him a crooked grin, which didn’t help the whole blush situation. It was just like his smile in all the magazines, mischievous and predatory and promising pain to anyone who didn’t get out of his way. Dick might have been swooning, it was hard to tell.

“I never did get your name.”

He wondered what color Cardinal’s eyes were behind that red mask. “Dick.”

Cardinal gave him a mini salute. “Until next time, Dickie.” Dick gasped as he jumped off the side of the building, then threw out a grapple and swung into the night. Dick would deny it to his dying day, but he ran to the edge and watched the retreating figure until he had long disappeared. He’d said until next time. He wanted to see Dick again. Yup, he was definitely swooning.

…

“How was your week, Richard?” Damian looked out of place in the small kitchen, sophisticated and large and dressed head to toe in black. It was one of Dick’s favorite sights.

Damian spent less time at the manor than most of the others did, so Dick didn’t get to see him as frequently as he’d like. He was often gone on business trips for Wayne Enterprises, slowly training to take over for Bruce one day.

When they first met, Dick had been suspicious of Damian. He was a very large, intimidating man. In Dick’s experience, very large, intimidating men often threw their weight around to get what they wanted. The longer Dick spent at the manor, though, the more he realized that, though Damian had a sharp tongue, he was extremely gentle. Damian treated animals and children with the same caution and respect that he treated art, and that made him trustworthy in Dick's book.

Adults, on the other hand, Damian had little patience for. He often called them “giant, bumbling imbeciles” who did not deserve even a fraction of the authority they possessed. Watching Damian chew out the press or civilians who hounded them in public was one of Dick’s great joys in life.

Dick swiveled on one of the kitchen stools and thought about Damian’s question. How was his week? He’d failed a quiz in English, got called another slur from an entitled asshole at Gotham Academy, and he’d met Cardinal. Cardinal knew who he was. He’d given him a nickname. Barbara was never going to believe it.

“You’re smiling.” Damian pointed out. “It must have been good.”

“It was.” He willed it away, but the smile stayed on his lips. Well, he’d had worse problems. “What about you, Dames? Did you threaten any CEOs into doing business with you?”

Damian scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Richard. I would never stoop so low as to threaten people into doing business with me… I would threaten them into succeeding their entire company over to Wayne Enterprises. As Stephanie loves to say, ‘go big or go home.’”

See, this was why Dick loved Damian.

“Sup, Chuckles.” Jason walked into the kitchen and snatched an apple off Damian’s plate, taking a large bite.

Damian sighed. “Todd, what have I told you about that egregious nickname?”

“That it’s awesome and I should keep using it?”

“If Timothy hears you-”

“If Tim hears me, he’ll probably think it’s funny!”

Damian’s expression darkened. “I can assure you he would not.”

Tim was the one person who visited the manor the least. Stephanie and Cass didn’t live there anymore either, but they stopped by a couple times a month to see everyone. Tim, on the other hand, Dick had only met twice. Dick knew that there was bad blood in the family somewhere, between Tim and Damian and Bruce, maybe Steph too. Dick didn’t know the details, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. For as much as Jason adored Tim, the pale man had a sharp edge to him that made Dick wary.

“Dick!” Jason exclaimed, noticing him for the first time. It was like that a lot, around here. “Are those French toast sticks? Mind if I snag one?”

Dick nodded, and tried his best not to tense as Jason came closer. That was his other problem with the manor— Jason. Dick had nothing against Jason. Quite the opposite in fact. He was just a bit too pretty, and Dick was just a bit too gay not to notice it.

Normally, he wouldn’t be bothered by anything like that. Some guys were pretty, and Dick had eyes. No harm, no foul. But this was his new family, or so they said. Dick was not about to lose the first decent home he’d had in years just because he accidentally flirted with his foster brother and got kicked out. For that reason, Dick tried his best to stay away from Jason.

“Thanks!” He took a bite of the french toast stick and groaned. “God, I love Alfred.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Master Jason. However, I’d appreciate it more if you didn’t speak with your mouth full.”

Jason at least had the decency to look guilty. “Sorry Alf.”

“So,” Alfred turned his appraising gaze to him. “Master Richard, what are your plans for the weekend?”

Sit in my room. Climb to the roof. Crawl out of my skin with boredom. So many good options.

Jason opened his mouth, but Alfred spoke first. “Why don’t you invite Miss Gordon over for dinner?”

It was as good an option as any. “Sure.”

…

“You what?”

“I met Cardinal. Try to keep up, Babs.”

“No.” Barbara shook her head, exasperated. “Go back to the part where you scaled a damn roof in the middle of the night! That was so dangerously stupid, Dick Grayson.”

“I didn’t scale the roof, I went up legally from the top floor… Though I may or may not have been illegally trespassing after hours.”

“Dick!” She shrieked.

He thought about letting her sweat a little more but decided against it. “Don’t worry, it was just the Wayne Enterprises building.”

“That doesn’t answer the question of why you were there so late.”

Because he went to visit Bruce, freaked out when he saw that Jason was already there and wearing a blue button down ( with 3 quarter length sleeves, yum). So he scaled the roof, thought clean thoughts, and enjoyed the cool air for so long that he didn’t realize everyone else had left. After his conversation with Cardinal, he’d had to Uber home.

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, I met Cardinal. Cardinal, Babs!” He let out a dreamy sigh. “He was so much beefier in person.”

She made a face. “Ew.”

Dick sat straight up. “Ew? What do you mean ‘ew’? Are you saying you don’t think Cardinal is the most beautiful man to walk the face of the earth?”

“He’s not a man, he’s barely a boy.”

“You take that back.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Duke popped his head into Dick’s room. Dick didn’t have any problems with Duke. He was a senior this year, but he attended public school instead of Gotham Academy. He’d gone there before he was adopted and made the decision not to transfer. He might have been a few years older than Dick and Barbara, but he never acted too cool to talk to them.

Dick flopped off the side of his bed, letting his head almost touch the ground. “How Cardinal’s thighs are the most perfectly shaped thighs in the entire universe.” He held his hands out in front of him and pictured those firm leg muscles. “They’re twin pieces of artwork, like angel wings made flesh. Or maybe two thick, juicy steaks-”

“Okay!” Duke’s voice was unnaturally high. “Um, wow. Things I did not need to know, like, ever. I think my laundry’s done, so I gotta go…”

“Doesn’t Alfred do your laundry?” Babs asked innocently.

“Ahaha what a great question… bye!” He sped out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

They both snickered.

“But seriously, Dick,” Barbara sighed. “It's not safe out there.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

She pursed her lips. “Okay. So why Cardinal?”

There were two answers to this question. The long answer started with the bone-deep sorrow of a little boy who’d lost everything.

Around the same time that Dick’s parents fell, leaving him cold and alone and bereft, Sparrow showed up in Gotham. He was loud and brash and brave, everything Dick wasn’t sure how to be anymore. He laughed in the faces of criminals, and he defended the innocent. He put Tony Zucco in prison.

Dick could still see it so clearly— the latex-covered boy dropping down through the window of his current foster home. At the time, Dick had been scared. Not of Sparrow, but of what his foster father would do if he found Dick out of bed.

“Dick Grayson.” Dick had nodded at the words, despite them not being a question. The boy was taller than Dick by a few inches, but he still felt safe. He knew Sparrow was only there to protect him. “I just wanted to let you know that the man who killed your parents is in prison. He’ll be there for the rest of his life, and if he ever gets out, I’ll track him down myself.”

Dick shivered in his nightshirt, chilled by the wind coming in through the open window. Sparrow misread the action and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you anymore. He’ll never hurt anyone else ever again.”

Then, just as quickly as he’d come, he was gone. Dick would have thought it was a dream if it hadn’t been for the newspaper clipping Sparrow pushed into his hands before he left. Tony Zucco Convicted: Life Sentence Without Parole. He was in a full-body cast.

That day was the first day he felt awake since his parents died. It was like seeing in color again, starting with the canary yellow S on Sparrow’s costume.

Every day since then, Dick had followed Sparrow’s journey with a fervor, watching as he worked alongside Shadowbat as his partner, joined the Teen Titans in Jump City (Dick thought his heart was breaking when he heard about the move), and eventually returned to Gotham as his own hero, Cardinal.

So yeah, there was a long answer to this question. He decided to give Babs the short one. “He’s gorgeous, kind, and he saves people. What else could a guy ask for?”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “You don’t know anything about him!”

Untrue. But revealing the depths of his obsession was probably a bad idea. “Well now that I’ve spoken with him, I know he’s funny and independent and tall. Babs, he could literally bend me in half if he wanted to. Maybe if I ask nicely…”

“Ew, ok that’s enough, let’s go.” She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the room. “I’m going to kick your ass at Mario Kart until I feel like you’ve fully paid for all the trauma you just caused me.”

Dick laughed. “Fair enough.”

Chapter Text

Dick sat in one of the large, cushy chairs in Bruce’s study, quietly sipping lemonade as Jason and Stephanie argued.

“No you’re not.”

“I definitely am. He’s brooding and handsome, I’m brooding and handsome. We’re practically the same person!”

Steph rolled her eyes. “No you’re not. You talk too much to be Zuko, and you definitely don’t brood enough. If anything, you’re Sokka.”

Jason placed a hand on his heart. “I take offense to that, blondie.”

“What’s wrong with Sokka?”

“He’s not Zukko, that’s what’s wrong!”

Dick had been watching them go back and forth for maybe ten minutes now, and it was just as amusing as when they started.

Eventually, Steph proposed a truce. “We can all agree that Damian is Katara, right?”

Dick choked on his lemonade.

“Oh god you’re so right.” Jason’s grin grew predatory.

“You absolutely cannot tell him that. He’d sulk for weeks.”

“What?” Jason pouted. “But it’d be so funny!”

Steph threw her hands up. “And that’s why you’re Sokka!”

“Wrong.” Dick felt himself freeze as Tim walked in the room. This would mark the third time that Dick had met Tim in person, and his light blue eyes gave him the same icy chill each time.

Tim was wearing a black superboy hoodie and carried an iced coffee (Dunkin’ Donuts), which he used to point at Jason. “Suki.” He pointed at Steph. “Sokka.” He then paused and turned those piercing eyes on Dick. They narrowed slightly. “Zuko.”

Dick let out a small breath when Tim turned back to the others. “Cass is Mai, Alfred is Iroh, because duh. Duke is Aang, and Bruce…” he grinned, spreading his hands wide. “is the cabbage man.”

It was silent for a moment, then Jason and Steph burst out laughing.

“Stop,” she cackled. “You’re so right. We’re always fucking with his plans. The poor man is just so tired, all the time.”

“Of course I’m right.” Tim shrugged. “Isn’t that why you keep me around?”

“Who does that make you, then?” Dick didn’t realize he’d asked the question out loud until everyone in the room looked at him.

“Me?” Tim smiled, and it was fucking terrifying. “I’m Azula. Obviously.” Dick couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not. He felt frozen there, under the weight of Tim’s eyes and the malice in his smile. He couldn’t move.

Tim then took a loud slurp of his iced coffee, effectively breaking the spell.

“So what’re you doing here, Tim?” Jason bounded up to his side like a puppy, and it was honestly adorable. He tried to act nonchalant about it, but it was clear he was ecstatic to see Tim. His eyes were shining.

“Thought I’d stop by, see what the munchkins were up to.” He shrugged. “Kick your ass at Cheese Viking.”

“Shit, really?” If Jason had a tail, it would be wagging. “I mean, if anyone’s ass is getting kicked, it’s definitely yours.”

“Right.” He drawled. “Cause the last five times went so well for you.”

“Hey, I’ve been practicing! Damian takes me to the arcade whenever pa-" he stumbled over his words, "school sucks, so I’m pretty sure I can kick your ass now.”

Tim’s expression darkened at the mention of Damian, but Jason didn’t notice. “Whatcha think, Dick? Wanna come?” Then, to Tim, “Dick hasn’t been introduced to the utter epicness that is Cheese Viking yet.”

Dick actually considered saying yes for a few moments. Then he noticed the minute way Tim’s shoulders tightened when Jason invited him. Tim didn’t visit the manor very often, and it was clear he only came today for Jason. Dick wouldn’t ruin this for them by tagging along. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to be spending time with Jason anyway.

“Maybe next time. I’ve got some calculus homework to finish up. But I’d love to hear about it when you get back.” Shit, why did he say that? Maybe he needed to start writing Do Not Talk To Jason on the back of his hand as a reminder.

Jason deflated, just a bit. “Yeah?”

“Course. Besides, I want to know who wins. My bet’s on you.”

And just like that, Jason was beaming again, shoulders straightening and chin jutting out in a confident smirk. “That’s cause you know how to spot a winner. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab my shoes.”

He rushed out of the room, and Dick let himself relax a little. He should have known better.

“You don’t actually have calculus homework.”

Dick stiffened, then furtively glanced around the room. At some point, Stephanie had left when he wasn’t looking. Thank god. Then again, that also meant he was alone with Tim, so maybe it wasn’t such a good thing.

“What?”

“Or if you do have calculus homework, you could complete it another time… You’re avoiding him.” Dick jerked at the matter-of-fact statement. “Why?”

“I’m not avoiding Jason.” Liar. “I like Jason.” And now he was being a little too honest.

Tim narrowed his eyes. “I see.” Fuck. Shit. Goddamn it all to hell. “Thank you.”

What. “What?”

“You’re staying here so Jason and I can spend time together, right?” An out. He was giving Dick an out. “So thank you.”

Dick just nodded, not trusting himself enough to speak.

“You coming, Tim?” Jason’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Well, that’s my cue.” Tim stood to leave. “Oh and Dick?” He turned back to face him. “Bruce isn’t homophobic. He has a long, long list of flaws, but that, surprisingly enough, isn’t one of them. But if you hurt my brother,” the tone of his voice went flat, "I'll kill you."

Fuck. Shit. Goddamn it all to hell.

…

“Remind me why we have to go to these things again?” Jason tugged on his bow tie.

“Because we’re all Bruce’s little trophy children, meant to show the press how Successful and Responsible he is?” Stephanie suggested. Duke tried to hide his laugh with a cough.

“Stephanie,” Damian chided. “You know how important this gala is for Wayne Enterprises. It is imperative that you be on your best behavior. If you are not…” he paused menacingly. “I will not pick up Bat Burger on the way back to the manor.”

Stephanie squealed. “You’re getting us Bat Burger? I love you so much right now.”

“Right, yes, well- Brown, cease this immediately! Remove yourself at once!” Dick smiled at Damian’s attempt to untangle himself from Stephanie’s hug. It was an impossible task.

“I could definitely go for a big, juicy burger right about now. These fancy events never have enough food. It’s always these teeny tiny portions.” Duke complained.

Even Cass joined in, with a short but heartfelt “Joker fries.”

Jason nudged Dick, then nodded surreptitiously at Damian. “A couple years ago, he wouldn’t go near the place. This is what I like to call character development.”

Though they all walked in together, Dick quickly ended up on his own. The others had business conversations they needed to attend to (mostly just Dami) or friends to catch up with. Dick only had himself— well, and all the pushy socialites, but that was honestly worse than being alone.

Because he was the newest member of the Wayne family, he was essentially fresh meat at events like this. Throughout the entire evening, people made snide comments about his upbringing, speculated on his sexuality, and insulted his Roma heritage. Sometimes all three at once. He never thought he’d be grateful for his time in foster care, but it did give him thick skin. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive these horrible galas without it.

He wished he could be with Jason, who looked resplendent in his black tailored suit, but he knew that wasn’t a wise idea. He wasn’t sure he could stop himself from staring tonight, not with the way Jason’s slicked back hair showed off the clean lines of his face. He knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from laughing when Jason inevitably insulted one of the guests. Or watching his mouth just a bit too closely as he told Dick all the juiciest gossip.

He was feeling just a bit too raw tonight, so he stayed back. It was ok, though. Jason was with his friend Roy anyway. It was not ok. Dick dreamed about pushing Roy out a window on a daily basis.

“Hiding?” Dick jumped when Cass appeared at his elbow. When had she gotten there?

“Of course. Aren't you?”

She nodded, then looked out over the sea of people. “They can be cruel, sometimes.” That was an understatement. He’d heard more slurs directed at him tonight than the first eleven years of his life combined.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they’re doing it on purpose. 0/10 would not recommend .”

“They act the same to me and Duke. And Jason, at first, because he did not come from money. They don’t like people who do not look like them, act like them, or think like them.”

That was probably the longest Dick had heard her speak consecutively.

“Yeah, I guess.” His parents would have hated it here. The decadence. The waste. How everything was so beautiful but none of it was real (including the people). It made him itch under his skin— made him restless. He wanted to find the nearest staircase and run all the way to the top, until he found the roof. He wanted to bask in the cool air and finally, finally breathe. He wanted to feel free again.

He didn’t, though. There were expectations on him now. Responsibilities. When he first moved in, Bruce had told him that his presence at the manor had no strings, and he’d meant it, too. But there were strings nonetheless. One of those strings was that he couldn’t run away from the public like a wild child, no matter how much he wanted to.

But still. He needed a little bit of space. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He could feel Cass’s concerned gaze on his back, but he didn’t stop.

He stayed in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, head between his knees, just trying to get the panic thrumming through his veins to stop. He eventually got to a place where he felt a bit better, so he checked the time— still another hour before they could leave. Goddamnit.

Honestly, Dick just wanted to go back to the manor. He wanted to hide in his oversized room, wash the night away in his oversized shower, and sink into his oversized bed with the memory foam mattress and cloud-like pillows. Bless that thing.

But he couldn’t hide forever. He knew he had to dodge snobby socialites and make conversation with the rest of the manor occupants and pretend he was feeling just peachy before he could rest. He might as well get it over with.

On his way out of the bathroom, Dick got a strange feeling, his senses kicking into high alert. It was a lot quieter than when he’d left. Where was the music? The inane chatter? There was none of that, only his footsteps echoing on the tile. There was no one else in the hallway, either. Which was strange, because Dick definitely remembered seeing a good amount of people wandering the halls earlier.

He wondered if he should turn back, but what good would that do? There were no answers there, so he kept moving forward, trying to muffle his footsteps. Eventually, he took off his shoes and socks entirely. It was a lot quieter that way, though he definitely looked a little unhinged, creeping along a wide hallway barefoot, one shoe raised above his head in defense.

Eventually, he reached the edge of the ballroom. He pressed himself to the wall, and listened. There was a faint voice, someone was talking, but he couldn’t figure out what was being said. Was this a toast? Just a regular speech? Or something worse. This was Gotham, after all.

Just as he was getting ready to step a little closer, a hand snuck around his waist and another clamped down on his mouth.

He started to struggle, twisting to get out of the tight grip, when he realized the person was speaking. Hissing something at him, actually. “It’s me, it’s me. It’s Cardinal. Quit moving.”

Dick stopped struggling, and the person let him go. He spun around to face Cardinal, who immediately began dragging him away by his wrist.

Eventually, he pulled them both into a side room. “Okay, we can talk here. What were you doing outside the ballroom? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Also, where are your shoes?”

Killed? So this was definitely supervillain-related. Great. He could feel his headache getting worse by the minute. “What’s going on? What are you even doing here?”

“I got a distress call a couple minutes ago, thankfully I was in the neighborhood. Scarecrow’s holding everyone hostage in the ballroom. Well, everyone except you. He’s threatening to release his newest gas unless Wayne Enterprises breaks off the clean energy bill they they planned to sign next week.”

That didn’t make any sense. “Why would Scarecrow do that?”

Cardinal glanced at the door. “That is a very great question that we don’t have time to answer right now. Batman and Team aren’t available, so I’ll be taking care of it.” He then grabbed Dick’s arms and looked him in the eyes. “Please, please stay here. I won’t be able to focus out there if I’m worried about you. Please stay here. Promise.”

Dick wanted to freeze that moment, with Cardinal's warm hands on his arms, and his confident voice gone soft with pleading. It made something ache a little in his chest, hearing Cardinal speak to him so earnestly. “Go. I’ll stay here, I promise.”

Cardinal’s expression melted into relief, then determination. “Thanks, Dickie. You’ll be safe in here.”

He ran out of the room, and Dick’s heart clenched as he watched him go. He would be okay, Dick would make sure of it. Cardinal had protected him before he even knew who Dick was. He’d unknowingly given him back light and color and life. Dick was not going to stand back when Cardinal needed him. He’d promised to stay put, but he lied.

With one last look, Dick crept out the door.

…

In order to help Cardinal, Dick needed a plan. He couldn’t just waltz into the ballroom (pun totally intended) through the front doors. And he needed a way to see what was happening before he made any moves. He had to be sure what he was doing would help Cardinal, not hurt him.

Dick searched for a place he could get a view of the room, knowing he couldn’t use the main entrance or the windows. It was highly likely that Scarecrow had already thought of both.

Which is how Dick found himself army-crawling through the ventilation shafts, searching for the ballroom. It wasn’t too hard to find, in all honesty. Scarecrow was still talking, and it echoed through the vents. He silently thanked his acrobatic training for allowing him to move lightly enough to stay undetected.

The crawl wasn’t too bad since the vents were mostly smooth metal, with a couple of round disks protruding here or there. All in all, not too turbulent of a journey.

Eventually, he made it to an opening that looked out over the ballroom. He didn’t see Cardinal, but he figured that was probably the point. It meant he hadn’t been captured, which was good. The guests of the party were huddled in the middle of the room, with masked men surrounding them on all sides. He figured they couldn’t leave because the men would either attack or release Scarecrow’s fear gas.

“-sign it! I need your final decision in the next sixty seconds, or everyone in this room will be exposed to my fear toxin. Do you know what fear toxin does to a person, Lucius Fox?” Scarecrow’s voice floated up to the air vents.

“Fear toxin shuts off the nervous system, so a person can no longer feel when they are hurt. At the same time, it activates the part of the brain that is connected to both memory and pain receptors. This causes the person to relive their worst moments and truly believe they are experiencing that same pain again.” He laughed. “In their panic, people under my fear toxin often lash out, injuring themselves or others. However, due to the inactive nervous system, they do not register any such wounds. In a room this size, with this many people under the effects of the toxin? To put it simply… it would be a bloodbath.”

At that point, Dick stopped paying attention. Scarecrow kept yammering on about fears, and though Dick was concerned for his family down below, he was more concerned about the fact that Cardinal was still nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was just biding his time… or maybe he has been captured. Dick’s entire plan hinged on being a distraction whenever Cardinal needed it, and now that plan was out the window. But he had to do something to help.

Maybe he could find the fear gas, stop it from releasing somehow. He glanced around the room… only to come up empty. He didn’t see any canisters or containers in the whole ballroom. The henchmen didn’t appear to have any, and neither did Scarecrow. What was going on?

If the fear gas wasn’t in the room, then it had to be somewhere else, somewhere easily accessible. There were no hiding spots in the ballroom, so that was out. It could be under the floor, but it seemed unlikely. That only left coming in through the doors, the windows… or the air vents.

The metal disks. They weren’t part of the air vents at all. They were distributors for fear gas. Fuck fuck fuck.

The first thing Dick did was close the slits of the vent in front of him. It wasn’t much, but it would hopefully help contain some of the gas. He then crawled to the nearest disk and examined it with shaking hands. There probably was a way to turn them off, but he wasn’t seeing it. It was remote-activated anyway, and there was a good chance that it might go off early if Dick tampered with it. Shit. So that was a no go.

His next thought was prying it off the wall. He grabbed the disk, pulled… and it popped right off. Finally, some good news.

Dick crawled a few feet towards, shut the vent, then pulled off the disk. He had to store them somewhere, so he shoved them both down the front of his suit, not sparing a second to think of the consequences. He was running out of time.

After detaching a couple more disks, he finally reached the last one and shoved it in his pocket. He had to get out. If he could only get out, he could deposit the disks somewhere safe and hightail it out of there. Unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky.

“-out of time.”

The disks in his suit started growing warm, hissing and vibrating. That was definitely bad.

There was a soft murmur from the crowd when the gas didn’t deploy as planned. “SHUT UP!” Scarecrow yelled. “I’ll kill you all one by one if I have to! Starting with Bruce Wayne.”

But before he could say anything else, the windows smashed open. Dick wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, but he figured that was Cardinal’s entrance. He was too busy trying to crawl to an exit. The gas was coming out faster now, but thankfully his suit kept him from getting a face full of it.

He’d almost reached the edge of the ballroom when he started to feel lightheaded. No no no, he was so close!

He crawled faster, holding his breath to slow the effects. His vision started to blur, and he knew it had to be good enough. He had to be far enough away from the ballroom. He kicked at the nearest vent as he started fading in and out of consciousness. Come on… come on…

The vent opening fell with a crash as he finally kicked it out, and he crawled the edge. He was too far gone to think about landing safely. Hell, he was too far gone to think, period. He just knew he couldn’t stay in the vents. So, with head pounding and eyes blurring, he threw himself into the open air.

And he fell.

Chapter Text

At some point while he was under the toxin’s influence, Dick thought he might have regained a few seconds of consciousness. He wasn’t sure, but there was a time when all the darkness receded, and he heard voices.

“-how you could have let this happen.”

Then a higher voice, frantic. “He was supposed to stay put! I didn’t know he would-”

“-you should have predicted-”

“Shit, guys he’s moving-“

And then the nightmares reclaimed him.

…

When he finally resurfaced, it was to a pounding headache and a dry, painful throat. He tried to open his eyes, but his body wouldn’t comply for about a solid minute. When he finally got them open, he realized they’d been crusted shut with tears. That didn’t bode well. Neither did the bright lights, which only added to his piercing headache.

“How are you feeling”

Dick jerked his head to find Bruce Wayne sitting next to him. He must have been watching him struggle to open his eyes, which was beyond embarrassing. Still, it could have been worse. It could have been Jason.

“I’m-” Dick coughed, throat incredibly sore. Bruce handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully drained. He cleared his throat, then tried again. “I’m good.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Okay, I feel like crap.”

“You’ve had an eventful night.”

Dick thought back to the gala and the toxin and the falling. “How bad was it?”

“You screamed for about three hours straight.” Dick winced. “We had to keep the others out of your hospital room. It was rather… difficult... to watch.” Well that was just great. The last thing he’d wanted to do was traumatize his family with his nightmares. He wondered what kinds of things he’d been yelling in his sleep. He thought maybe it was better that he didn’t know. “I know the effects of fear toxin can be a lot to handle. Are you…” Bruce trailed off.

“Still sane?” Dick laughed, then immediately regretted it, since it irritated his already-raw voice. “As sane as I normally am. It wasn’t… a pleasant experience,” talk about an understatement, “but I’m okay.” Did he spend the past who knows how many hours reliving his fears and all his worst moments from childhood to adolescence? Sure, but it wasn’t anything more than he already saw behind his eyelids every night when he tried to sleep.

He glanced around, only to realize he wasn’t in a hospital bed. “I’m in my room.”

“Yes.” Bruce steepled his fingers. “The hospital released you to our care a couple hours ago. I thought it would be more comforting for you to wake up in your own room rather than the hospital.”

“I appreciate it.” He then realized what had been nagging in the back of his head since he woke up. “Is everyone okay? The gala-”

“Everyone is fine, thanks to you.” Bruce gave him a small smile. “Scarecrow was apprehended, and none of the guests were hurt, present company excluded. Though I feel it’s my duty as your legal guardian to ask you not to pull such a stunt again.” Dick glanced away. He knew this lecture was coming. “You put yourself in danger and could have gotten seriously injured. If Cardinal hadn’t caught you in time, you would have several broken bones and possibly a severe concussion.”

He tried not to sound too interested when he asked “Cardinal caught me?”

“Indeed. It was rather cinematic, I must admit.” Bruce’s expression turned wry for a second, then back to serious. “I won’t harp on it any longer, but please, Dick. We want you to be safe.”

Dick nodded, unsure of what to say.

“Speaking of the others, they all are anxious to see you. Are you up for visitors right now? If not, I can tell them that you’re still sleeping.”

“No, it’s okay.” It was probably better not to wait. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, he also wanted to see everyone, make sure they really were okay. “Send them in.”

Stephanie and Cass came in first, boisterous and jovial. Well, Steph was the boisterous one, but still. It was reassuring in a way, listening to the two girls give him a play-by-play of the attack, with Stephanie exaggerating the exciting parts and Cass quietly correcting her. The storytelling took his mind off his aches and pains, and by the end, he felt a little more human.

Next came Duke and Babs, with exasperated looks (Babs) and comforting smiles (Duke). As frustrated as she was, Babs still pulled out her phone to show him a picture that one of the guests at the gala had captured. In it, Cardinal had Dick cradled in his arms, one hand raised as if to brush his hair to the side of his forehead. With fear toxin billowing around them like smoke, Dick realized Bruce was right. It was very cinematic.

“I already texted the picture. Knowing you, you’re going to make it your new lock screen or something.” Babs rolled her eyes, but it was a little too fond to cause any real sting.

The last person who visited was Damian. He sat down by the edge of the bed, and his quiet presence made Dick slump down into the pillows. It was nice to see everyone, but it was even nicer to see Damian because Dick never had to pretend with him. Well, it wasn’t really pretending— more like a mask. It was still him, just an outgoing, social version of himself. Right now, he didn’t want to be social. And with Damian, he didn’t have to be.

Eventually, Damian spoke. “I’m assuming the others already gave you a lecture on ‘self-endangerment’ and ‘recklessness’?”

Dick nodded, waiting for Damian to reprimand him. Damian’s reaction was the one Dick had been dreading the most. The others didn’t worry him. He did what he had to do, and he didn’t regret it. But he didn’t want to hurt Damian. The man never spoke about it, but there was sadness in his eyes. It weighed him down, made his footsteps heavier and his smile more rare. It was something they had in common. Dick knew tragedy when he saw it, and he saw tragedy in Damian Wayne. He never wanted to make his pain any worse.

“I am not upset with you. I was scared for you, when I saw you fall…” Dick swallowed and looked away. “But I am also proud of you. You did a good thing, Richard. You helped people, and I am never going to rebuke you for that.”

Dick felt tears sting in the back of his eyes and frantically blinked them away. Besides his parents, had anyone told him they were proud of him? He couldn’t recall. “You aren’t... angry?”

“Quite the contrary. You removed an active threat to civilian lives, allowing Cardinal to focus on neutralizing combatants, and you escaped with minimal injuries, all without any training whatsoever. I’m not angry. I’m impressed.”

“Oh.” Dick flushed under the praise.

“That being said, I would urge you not to make a habit of it.” Dick laughed, and Damian’s lips twitched upwards in a small smile. It wasn’t much, but it eased the tension that had been living in his chest since he woke up.

…

One week after the attack, Dick received a text on his phone. It contained the address of the Wayne Enterprises building along with the words Meet me on the roof, 12:00 AM. Dick’s breath caught. Cardinal. Somehow he’d obtained Dick’s number (easy enough to do as a bat) and wanted to meet him in the same place they’d met before. He felt his heart rate quicken.

Was Cardinal mad that he lied? Upset with how he handled the situation? Or was this something different. Dick knew it was unlikely as soon as he thought it, but… what if he just wanted to talk? What if he wanted to see Dick as much as Dick longed to see him? He couldn’t help remembering Cardinal’s words the night of the gala. I won’t be able to focus out there if I’m worrying about you. Dick didn’t want to read too much into it, but… that meant he cared, right? At least to some extent? It was probably the same way he cared about every civilian. Cardinal had a big heart; he didn’t want any innocents to get hurt. It was one of the things Dick loved most about him.

“Hey Dick.” Jason greeted him from the doorway. “Duke and I are gonna toss the frisbee around for a bit. Wanna come?”

Dick smiled politely. “I’m a little busy right now, but maybe later.”

Jason’s expression tightened around the edges, but he only shrugged. “Okay! We’ll be in the backyard if you want to join us.”

That was another thing that was different. Jason hadn’t visited when Dick was recovering from the fear toxin. He hadn’t stopped by to check on him, and he didn’t text. Not even once. By the time that Dick was recovered enough to attend school again, Jason was back to his normal self, grinning and chatting like nothing had happened. But something had happened. Dick had gotten hurt, and Jason wasn’t there.

That realization was more painful than the fear toxin, if he was being honest. He’d tried to pretend it wasn’t true, but he… cared for Jason. Jason was the one person in the manor who could always make him smile, without fail. He doodled on Dick’s homework and asked about his day on the drive home from school and always included Dick in hangouts with friends or the family, even when the others forgot.

But Dick guessed that was over now. It didn’t matter that Jason still did all of those things.

Dick had missed him this past week. He’d wanted Jason to sit by his bedside, telling stupid jokes until he smiled and lecturing him about making bad decisions. But it was okay that he hadn’t done those things; Dick didn’t really need them. Dick had only needed one thing from Jason. He’d needed him to show up. He’d needed him to care.

But Jason never showed, and Dick couldn’t let that go. He’d wasted enough years craving the affection of people who didn’t want him, doing everything he could to earn their approval. He wouldn’t do that anymore. He couldn’t. Jason didn’t care, so Dick had to let him go. Even though it made his heart burn in his chest, he knew it was the right thing to do. He’d given away enough pieces of his heart to people who didn’t give anything back.

He told himself it was okay. He still had lots of friends. He had Babs and Duke and Stephanie. And he still had someone who cared deeply for him— Damian. And he had Cardinal. Dick wasn’t sure what he meant to Cardinal, what category he fell under. Friend? Acquaintance? Something more? He knew that was just wishful thinking, but still. Cardinal had said he was worried about Dick. That meant he cared in some capacity, right? Dick chose to believe it did. Besides, he wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out how Cardinal felt about him or if he was upset about the gala. In a few short hours, he could ask him. He probably wouldn’t, but he could if he wanted to.

Dick clutched his phone in his hand and pulled up the text. Soon. Midnight couldn’t come soon enough.

…

Dick reached the Wayne Enterprises building at precisely 11:54. That gave him six minutes to figure out what he wanted to say to Cardinal. If Cardinal was angry, should he try to explain his thought process? Defend himself? Or should he apologize? He wasn’t sorry for what he did, so he wouldn’t apologize about that. But he was sorry for lying. He'd put Cardinal’s plan in jeopardy and had broken his trust. This was not going to be a fun conversation, was it?

Two minutes before midnight, he heard a noise behind him. He smiled and turned to greet Cardinal. Only it wasn’t Cardinal, it was Jason. Dick almost didn’t recognize him at first. He was wearing glasses, his hair was a mess, and… were those Shadowbat pajama pants? Strange. He always thought Jason was more of a Red Hood fan. Then again, none of that explained why Jason was here.

“What the hell, Dick?” Jason whispered as he hobbled towards him on the roof. One of his ankles was wrapped, and he wasn’t wearing any shoes. It looked like it hurt.

“What do you mean, what the hell?” Dick whispered back. “Did you follow me?”

“Yes.” Jason said without an ounce of shame. “What were you thinking, going out so late? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Yes, I’m trying to get myself killed.” He rolled his eyes. “Obviously I’m not trying to get myself killed! I’m… meeting someone.”

Jason threw his hands in the air. “Do you even know how suspicious that sounds?”

“It’s not suspicious.” Jason raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe it sounds a little suspicious. But I’m just trying to protect his identity!”

“That’s even worse! What is this, some kinda creepy midnight booty call?”

“No!” Dick flushed, but Jason wasn’t done.

“If you need money, all you have to do is ask Bruce. You don’t need a sugar daddy.”

“It’s not a sugar daddy!” He huffed. “It’s… Cardinal. I’m meeting up with Cardinal.”

Jason went pale. “We need to go. Now.”

He grabbed Dick’s arm and started pulling him towards the rooftop door.

“Jason, let go! He’s not dangerous, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Dick, Cardinal’s not coming!” He scanned the rooftop as they rushed towards the door. “It’s a set up.”

Dick stopped struggling. “What?”

Before Jason could elaborate, Dick’s vision started to fade. He stumbled on clumsy feet, and saw Jason do the same. Heavy boots landed on the roof behind him, but he was too dizzy to turn around and look. Fuck, this was bad.

The last thing he saw before he passed out was Jason’s wide eyes and outstretched hand.

Chapter Text

“I’m really fighting the urge to say I told you so right now.”

Dick and Jason were both tied to separate chairs, ropes binding their wrists, ankles, and chests to the cold metal. The good news was that they were in the same room. Dick was glad that he could see Jason from where he was sitting. They both had a couple scrapes and bruises, but nothing terrible (though Jason’s glasses had gotten lost somewhere between the rooftop and… wherever they were. Dick refused to think about how cute he’d been with them on.).

The bad news was that Jason was glaring at him from across the room. Dick wasn’t sure how well he could actually see him, given the whole glasses situation, but he gave him a sheepish smile just in case.

“It sure does look like we’re in a tight situation.” Dick flexed his bonds to emphasize the point.

“Dick,” Jason growled.

“Sorry, sorry. I tell puns when I get nervous.”

“I know.” Jason probably would have thrown his hands up in exasperation if they hadn’t been tied behind him. “This is your third pun in the last half hour. I’m starting to think if Scarecrow doesn’t kill us, your bad jokes will.”

“Scarecrow’s the one behind all this?”

“I don’t know who else it would be. I mean, you publicly humiliated him last week. If he wants to be taken seriously in the Gotham underworld again, he has to retaliate in a visible way.”

“Oh.” Dick’s voice was small. He wasn’t sure what Scarecrow was planning to do now that he had them, but it probably wasn’t a simple ransom (when did he start thinking about ransoms as simple?). Whatever it was, though, it likely wasn’t going to be pretty. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Jason.”

Jason glared even harder. “I’m not mad at you for putting me in danger. I’m mad at you for putting yourself in danger. Sometimes I swear you’re such an idiot, Dickie.”

Something about that sentence pinged Dick’s subconscious, but before he could analyze it, the door to the room creaked open.

“Hello boys.” Jason was right, it was Scarecrow, full face mask and everything. “It's a pleasure to see you again. Let me introduce myself, since I already know who you are. My name is Dr. Jonathan Crane, and you two are my guests of honor.” He walked over towards Dick and lifted up his chin. Dick thought about biting his hand, but he didn’t want to risk Scarecrow retaliating against Jason. “You see, you, Mr. Grayson, have been quite a thorn in my side.”

“Really? Kidnapping a high schooler? That’s low, even for you, Crane.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have better things to do, like poisoning babies or experimenting on pets?”

Scarecrow let go of Dick’s face and walked over to Jason. “What a lovely opinion you have of me.”

Jason snorted. “I know a coward when I see one. Hiding behind a mask, pretending you’re powerful, when all you really do is hurt people who can’t fight back.”

Scarecrow brought his hand down across Jason’s face in a viscous backhand, and Dick bit back a gasp. Jason just smiled through bloody teeth. “Kinda proving my point here, Doc.”

Scarecrow spit some retort back, but Dick wasn’t listening. What was Jason doing, taunting Scarecrow like that? He was dangerous and unpredictable. He could really hurt Jason… but maybe that’s what Jason wanted. If Scarecrow was focused on him, then he wasn’t hurting Dick. Dick felt sick.

He flinched as Scarecrow hit Jason again, then again. One eye was already swollen shut, and his lips were a bloody mess. It was painful to watch, so Dick turned away, fiddling with the ropes at his wrists. He wouldn’t let Jason get hurt anymore. It didn’t matter that Jason hadn’t visited him after he got fear gassed. He was literally taking blows that were meant for Dick, because Dick fucked up and snuck out of the house after majorly pissing off a psychotic super villain. He should have known better. Five years in foster care should have taught him better.

But if there was one thing he had learned over the course of his life, it was how to escape tight situations. Dick scanned the room, waiting for the perfect moment. This was just like performing, right? Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he’d believe it. He took one calming breath, then another.

And then he sprung.

Slipping loose from the ropes, Dick leapt forward and caught Scarecrow's hand as he swung it behind him, pulled back to hit Jason again. But he never got the chance. Dick yanked his arm hard, pulling him off balance. Dick knew that his whole plan hinged on incapacitating Scarecrow before he could release his fear toxin or call for backup, so he didn’t waste a moment.

He swept Scarecrow's legs out from under him, then kicked him in the head as he went down. He kicked him two more times, then grabbed the metal chair he’d been tied to and brought it down on Scarecrow’s body. He swung the chair again and again and again, until he heard a voice calling his name, suddenly pulling him back to the present.

“Dick, Dick, stop! That’s enough. He’s down. He’s down.”

Dick dropped to the chair, wincing at the loud metal clang. With growing horror, he realized the chair had blood on it. There was a pool of blood by Scarecrow's head and flecks of it on Dick’s clothes and skin.

“Breath, just breathe. It’s alright, Dickie, everything’s okay.”

Dick turned towards Jason and gasped when he saw his face again. It was purple and bloody and beat to all hell.

“It’s okay, Dick. Come here, help me untie these ropes and we can get out of here.”

Dick started loosening the ropes, hands fumbling as he saw Jason’s Shadowbat pajama pants. Oh god, Jason.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Jason pulled the rest of the ropes off and wrapped him in his arms as Dick began to cry.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Dickie. You’re okay.”

“I- I-“ Dick stuttered, attempting to get the words out. “I killed him.”

But Jason shook his head. “It would take a lot more than that to kill him, trust me. You didn’t kill him.”

“He was hurting you, I couldn’t let him. I-” he pressed his face into Jason’s chest and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Dickiebird. You didn’t do anything wrong. We can talk about it when we get home. Let’s get out of here.”

Before they could move, though, a dark shadow dropped from the ceiling and landed right in front of them. Batman. Dick froze.

Batman glanced at the scene, from Scarecrow’s limp body to Jason’s arms wrapped protectively around Dick. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine.” Batman raised an eyebrow at Jason’s bloody face. “It looks worse than it is, trust me. You should see the other guy.”

Dick muffled a sob and Jason cursed. “Shit, sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Dick just shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He took in a deep, shuddering breath.

The door burst open, and Dick tensed as another figure rushed in, only to realize it was Shadowbat. Dick hid his wide, awed gaze in Jason’s shoulder. He was even more imposing in real life, broad and dark and menacing. Dick guessed it was true that money really could solve all your problems, since Bruce was somehow able to get both of the bats’ heaviest hitters to come find them.

Bruce. He must be so worried. Dick wondered if the police were involved too, the rest of the family awake and fretting.

“Everything’s alright.” Batman told Shadowbat. “Take these citizens back to their homes. I’ll clean up here.”

Shadowbat swooped the both up into his arms, and Dick yelped as he grappled them all to the roof.

The only thing Shadowbat said the entire drive to the manor (in the batmobile!!) was “Nice pants.” Jason flushed and muttered what sounded like “I hate you” under his breath.

The rest of the drive was quiet.

…

For the next couple of hours, the manor was a kaleidoscope of color and movement and sound. Everyone wanted to know how they were doing, what happened, if they were okay, who was injured, etc. Eventually, Jason was swept away by Alfred to have his face cleaned, bandaged, and iced.

In the middle of all the chaos, Dick slipped away. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he should stay and reassure the family that he was alright, but…

He couldn’t stand to see the cuts on Jason’s face, when his was blemishless. He couldn’t stand to hear the updates on Scarecrow’s arrest, knowing he had attacked him. Could have killed him. He couldn’t bear to look in his new family’s eyes and see condemnation.

He was a hypocrite, because all of it was his fault. The kidnapping, Jason’s injuries, all of it. He deserved condemnation for what he had done… but he was weak, so he slipped away.

Sometime later, it could have been hours or minutes, someone joined him up on the roof. Dick was sitting on top of one of the many arches that stretched over the front of the manor, knees tucked into his chest.

“I thought I might find you out here.”

Dick wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that it was Jason or not. Damian would have been easier to talk to, but then again, Damian wasn’t who Dick needed to see. Still, Dick didn’t turn to face Jason, just gazed off into the dark sky, watching as the first few rays of light slipped over the horizon.

“Are you okay?” Jason eventually asked.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one who got hurt.”

Jason was quiet for a long moment. “Pain isn’t always external.”

Dick turned his head away. “I’m just so fucking sorry, Jason.”

“Hey, look at me.” Dick stared resolutely away, until Jason placed a few fingers on his cheek and tilted his head towards him. “I don’t regret coming with you, and I don’t regret what you did at the gala. You saved all those people last week, and you saved me tonight. You’re a hero, Dick.”

Dick just laughed, bitter and sharp. “I don’t feel like a hero.”

“What do you feel like?”

“An idiot. A fool.” Then, quieter. “A monster.”

“Is this because he hit me?”

“Of course it’s because he hit you! And because I could have killed him, and might have if you hadn’t stopped me. That’s not normal, Jason. I wanted to hurt him.”

Jason just shook his head. “I goaded him into hitting me, Dick. I was trying to draw his attention. You’re not allowed to blame yourself for that.”

“Watch me.”

“Pretty sure that’s what I’m doing right now.”

“Self-sacrificing idiot.” Dick muttered under his breath.

“Oh, I’m the self-sacrificing idiot? What do you call that stunt you pulled at the gala?”

“Um, helping?”

“Helping? Helping is calling the police. What you did was… was…” Jason waved an arm around, searching for the words.

“The Gotham Gazette called it a ‘daring feat of heroics.’”

Jason's smile turned soft. “I don’t think there’s any doubt that you’re a hero, Dickie.”

Dick stilled. “What did you just call me?”

“A hero? I’m pretty sure we already established-”

“After that.”

Jason met his eyes carefully. “I called you Dickie.”

“You never call me that.”

“I’m pretty sure I just did.”

“No, only one person has ever called me that.” Dick’s mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. Jason and Cardinal were about the same build, right? It was possible, right? He wasn’t crazy? He thought about the rooftop, how sure Jason was that Cardinal wasn't coming. He thought about Duke's face when he spoke about Cardinal, and the interaction between Jason and Shadowbat in the batmobile. He lept to his feet. If Jason was Cardinal, then that meant… that meant…

In his haste, he tripped over a loose shingle, yelping as he careened towards the edge of the roof. Before he could fall, Jason had one arm looped around his waist, feet planted wide for balance. They ended up face to face, Dick’s back arched in a curve and Jason pressed to his front.

“Cardinal,” he breathed. It wasn’t a question. He knew.

“Yes, Dickie?”

“Oh my god.” Dick whispered. Dick was sure Jason, Cardinal, whoever he was, could feel his heart racing where their chests were pressed together.

“This doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes everything.” Then he gasped. “You- you were flirting with me!”

Jason chucked. “Dick, I’ve been flirting with you ever since I laid eyes on you, as both Jason and Cardinal. I don’t know if you can tell, but I kinda have the hots for ya.”

“You… what?” Dick was pretty sure his brain was broken.

“I like you.” Jason enunciated each word, making sure there was no room for misinterpretation. “You’re brave and funny and absolutely gorgeous. What’s not to love?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be describing me, not yourself.” Dick hated how breathless his voice was, but he was flirting with Cardinal, touching Cardinal, and Cardinal was Jason.

“Oh shut up.” Jason grinned. They stared at each other for a few more seconds before Dick realized he was still a little too close to the edge of the roof for comfort.

“Um, could we maybe get down?”

“Oh right.” Jason stepped away, but kept their hands clasped together.

Once they were resettled on Dick’s bed, the tension was back.

“I… thought you didn’t like me.” Dick began hesitantly.

“How is that even possible?” Jason flopped down onto his back. “I’ve been practically tripping over myself to get your attention ever since I met you. Do you know how much crap I’ve gotten from Babs about it? So much.”

“Babs knows?” Dick shrieked.

“I mean, yeah… She’s Batgirl.”

“What?!” Babs was Batgirl? She knew that Jason was Cardinal? “That traitor! I can’t believe she was double crossing me the whole time!”

Jason raised an amused eyebrow and sat back up. “Double crossing you?”

“Yeah, she-" he cut himself off.

“She what?”

“… it’s embarrassing.”

“Now I have to know.” Jason pressed their shoulders together, and the contact made Dick’s brain so fuzzy that he ended up coming clean.

“… I may or may not have spent multiple afternoons raving about your abs… and your biceps… and your thighs…”

“You like my thighs?” Golden retriever Jason was back.

“Ughhhhh.” Dick buried his burning red face in his pillow. “Yes, I like your thighs.”

Dick could hear Jason’s smirk in his voice as he responded. “I’m more than just a piece of meat, you know.”

“Shut up!”

“Make me.”

Dick pulled himself up and scanned Jason’s stupidly handsome face. “Why didn’t you visit me after the gala?”

The mirth slid off Jason’s features, and he glanced away. Dick felt guilty for ruining their playful banter, but it was something he needed to know before they moved forward.

“Bruce wouldn’t let me. I had inhaled a good amount of fear toxin, and I sprained my ankle. I wanted to stay with you, but it would have ‘compromised my identity’.” He said it with a bitter smile. “I know it’s not a good enough excuse, and you’re right to be angry. I should have been more insistent. I should have- mmgh!”

Dick cut him off with a kiss, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and claiming Jason’s mouth with his own. Jason immediately surrendered to the motion, eyes clenched shut and hands bunching up the comforter.

Dick pulled back and looked at him, taking in the hazy eyes and reddened lips. “You can touch me, you know.” He picked up Jason’s hands and placed them around his waist. They immediately enveloped him in a warm heat.

Jason glanced at his lips, then back up to his eyes, hesitant and wanting. Dick felt a fondness bloom in his chest at Jason’s bashfulness. He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was longer, deeper, with Jason finally moving his hands along Dick’s back, slipping under the hem of his shirt. Dick ran his tongue along the seam of Jason's lips, and he parted them, opening beautifully for Dick. Dick always expected Cardinal to be as dominant of a kisser as he was a fighter, but this? It was as unexpected as it was welcome.

As he slipped his tongue in Jason’s mouth, he wondered how much experience the boy truly had. Sure, he was older than Dick by a year, but neither Cardinal nor Jason Todd ever had any long term relationship denoted in the papers. The thought made Dick shiver, that maybe might be the first to see Jason like this. That he might be the first to have Cardinal trembling beneath his fingertips, moaning sweetly into his mouth and melting at his touch.

After a few more seconds, he pulled away. If Jason truly was inexperienced, Dick didn’t want to overwhelm him.

Jason was flushed a light pink, and Dick marveled at knowing what those cheekbones looked like without the mask. “Um… I take it you aren’t mad?”

“Oh I’m furious,” Dick grinned, “but not at you. Babs is going to get the lecture of a lifetime. In fact, I’ll text her right now.” He pulled out his phone, and Jason hooked a chin over Dick’s shoulder.

“Cute screensaver.”

Dick looked down and realized it was the picture of Cardinal holding him at the gala. He yelped, and tossed the phone across the room. “Nothing! You saw nothing.”

“Who was that guy on your lock screen? Should I be jealous? You looked cozy.” He drawled the last word.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Nah. You like me too much.”

Dick buried his face in his hands, but he was grinning nonetheless. “You're lucky I do.”

Chapter Text

The Batcave was swarming with activity as the Wayne family got ready for patrol. Bruce sat in front of the batcomputer with Cass and Barbara, checking the video feeds one last time. Damian laced up the boots of his Shadowbat costume, stoutly pretending not to see Tim raiding Bruce’s latest gadgets and Stephanie, in full Spoiler attire, dancing to Hollaback Girl (mentally scarring Duke for life).

Jason observed it all from his seat against the cave wall, swinging his feet and smiling to himself.

Only he noticed the hidden elevator slide open, the noise lost in the hustle and bustle of pre-patrol preparations. Only he saw the small figure step into the cave, holding up his phone to pan around the room.

But they all heard him when he spoke.

“This is Dick Grayson, live-streaming from the Batcave, holy freaking crap!! I can’t believe the Batcave is in my basement!!” The room went deadly silent, but Dick didn’t get the memo. He kept speaking, pointing the camera at different areas of the room and gasping. “Wait, that means… oh my god.” He placed a hand over his mouth. “Damian Wayne is Batman.”

Before he could finish speaking, a batarang flew through the air and knocked Dick’s phone out of his hand, sending it smashing against the cave wall in an explosion of sparks and glass.

“… I probably should have seen that coming.”

Stephanie took a step forward and started speaking at the same time as Tim did.

“We can explain-”

“He wasn’t actually-“

They glanced at each other, then Stephanie gestured for Tim to go first. “He wasn’t actually filming. The camera angles were wrong.”

Everybody looked at Dick, who let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, yeah he’s right.”

“Richard-” Damian began.

Dick put his hands up. “Jason told me to do it! He thought it’d be funny.”

Jason let out a betrayed gasp. “Dick!”

“Sorry, babe.”

“So you weren’t actually live-streaming?” Babs asked, and Stephanie mouthed “Babe?”

“Nope. Just thought it would be a fun way to tell you guys that I know about all the Batman stuff.” He gave them a bashful grin and jazz hands. “Surprise!”

After a couple beats of silence, Bruce spoke. “How long have you known?”

“Erm, about two weeks.”

“Two weeks!” Stephanie exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Jason cut in before Dick could answer. “I asked him not to. I wanted to wait until Timmy was here for the surprise.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth; Dick was the one who wanted to wait. Between being kidnapped and finding out his adopted father was Batman, he needed some time to process. He wanted to make sure he was in a good state of mind when he finally spoke with everyone about it. As familiar as Dick was with change, it was never easy to accept, especially since very few of the major changes in his life had been positive.

Jason helped a lot with that. He answered all of Dick’s questions honestly and told him each hero’s backstory, at least the parts that were open knowledge.

Dick was shocked when he heard about what happened to Tim, how he died and came back alone with no one to welcome him. How Damian attacked him when he returned to Gotham, accusing Tim of being a clone or a trick sent by his conniving mother, Talia. How Tim only begrudgingly came back into the fold when he found out that Damian had killed the joker after Tim died.

It was honestly a lot to take in, though it did explain the strange animosity between the two men.

The hardest part to accept was Damian’s own hero identity. Everyone knew that Shadowbat was a notorious assassin-turned-hero. There were whispers that he still wouldn’t hesitate to kill if another bat was in danger. It was difficult for Dick to reconcile that man with the Damian he’d come to know. For such a large person, Damian always moved with grace. He had an artist’s hands and a gentleness to his touch.

But these things were still true about Damian. He was still the person Dick knew, Dick just knew more about him now. If Shadowbat was a part of Damian, then Dick wanted to know him too.

“You seem to be taking everything well.” Barbara interrupted his thoughts.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Babs. I’ve got beef with you.”

“…. Wow, would you look at that! My dad’s calling. Gotta go!”

“I still can’t believe you’ve known for two whole weeks!” Steph exclaimed. “That’s longer than most of these bozos can keep a secret. Well, except Cass.” Cass smiled at him, and Dick realized that it was possible, in fact very probable, that Cass had known the whole time and decided not to say anything. It made him wonder what other secrets she knew.

“Anything else you’re holding out on us?” Duke asked, clearly not expecting a real answer.

“Actually yes.” Dick smirked. “I’m dating Cardinal.” Then he walked right over to where Jason was seated, pulled him to his feet, and dipped him backwards in a deep kiss.

As they kissed, Duke placed a hand over Barbara’s eyes. She smacked it away and elbowed him in the side. “Cut it out, I’ve earned this!”

Damian stepped forward, about to storm over and separate them, but Cass stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Let them kiss. They are happy.”

After another long moment, Dick pulled away, loving the glazed look in Jason’s eyes.

“Great show!” Stephanie let out a wolf whistle, laughing as Dick finally blushed, just a little.

“What was that for?” Jason whispered.

“That was cause you’re hot. And this,” he placed a softer kiss on his lips, “is because you’re the best boyfriend a guy could ask for.” He lowered his voice. “I’d also like to show you just how damn attractive you look in that uniform,” he smoothed a hand down Jason’s chest, “but I think that would probably be best when we’re not in a room with your dad, yeah?”

Jason turned as red as his Cardinal costume, then took a quick step away from Dick.

“You’re fine, Jason. I already knew you were dating.” They startled at the sound of Bruce’s voice.

“You- wait, you did?”

“You kept kicking me under the table when you were trying to play footsie with Dick at dinner.” Even Dick looked chagrined at that.

“Busted.” Babs laughed.

“Does this mean you will be wanting to join the team?”

Dick had been expecting this question. “No, I don’t think so. Being a vigilante isn’t really my calling. I’m thinking of going into physical therapy, actually. But I did have a request, if you’re okay with it.”

“Yes?”

“I think I’d like to learn some self-defense. I want to make sure I can help people if I ever end up in another situation like the one with Scarecrow.”

Bruce smiled. “That's a great idea. I believe Damian has the time to oversee your training.”

“Of course, father.” Damian stepped forward. “It would be an honor to train you, Richard.”

Dick tried not to beam and failed. It meant a lot, that Damian would teach him.

“Are you gonna put him through The Punisher?” Steph asked.

“Obviously.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” It probably wasn’t as bad as it sounded… right?

“The Punisher. It’s an obstacle course that Damian designed to show new vigilantes how unprepared they are for crime fighting in Gotham. It totally kicked my ass.” Steph smirked. “Can’t wait to watch your first run.”

Jason wrapped an arm around Dick. “Don’t worry Dickie, I’ll protect you.”

“Incorrect, Todd. You know the rules— no outside help allowed.”

Dick leaned further into Jason’s arms. “Can I take it back?” He whispered.

“Sure.” Jason whispered back. “But then you’d miss the opportunity to beat my best time.” He smirked at the look of consideration on Dick’s face.

“I wouldn’t challenge him,” Tim said. Dick glanced over in surprise. He got the feeling that Tim didn’t talk much when he wasn’t fully comfortable.

“You think he can beat me?”

Tim just shrugged. “I think he can out-stubborn you. Besides,” he made eye contact with Dick. “I know how to spot a winner.”

Dick’s life wasn’t perfect; he was pretty sure it never would be. But right now, it was good. And that was all he could ask for.