Archive of Our Own ^beta

Contrary to popular belief, Dick Grayson was not a bad cook. 

It was more so that… He struggled with proportions. Growing up, he cooked for an entire circus. Everyone from the ringmaster, to the lion tamer, to his own family to the clowns - he would help make meals for everyone. He wasn’t bad at it, either. His dad, he was a good cook. And he taught Dick, and he taught Dick from memory - not with recipes or writing. And without those numbers written down, without a way to downplay the math from upwards of fifty to three people - it wasn’t something he knew how to do.

So after his parents died, Dick didn’t cook. He tried once - after all, Bruce’s kitchen had the right amount of ingredients for the things he knew how to cook. Massive proportions included.

It was something around way too late at night, and he missed his dad, so he tried to cook one of his dad’s recipes. Some kind of breakfast casserole dish - he thinks maybe it was from one of the fire breather’s homes. 

He filled an entire fifteen casserole dishes (and yes, he did question why two men had fifteen, but also Bruce had something like seventeen bathrooms per floor of his house, so who was Dick to judge?) and he wasn’t exactly a dumb child. He knew that he, Alfred, and Bruce would never eat all of this.

He hated that realization. His realization that his family had dropped from over fifty to… two men in a huge house. A huge house that, once upon a time, if it held his family would be filled, and now was empty. There were so many rooms without people and he didn’t want to think about it! He missed his family and-

(Alfred found him crying on the kitchen floor, surrounded by casserole dishes. He, Dick, and Bruce ate one, kept another, and donated the rest. Dick wanted to pretend that donating it filled the hole in his heart, but it didn’t.)



He didn’t cook for Jason. He wasn’t there for him - but he remembered that Alfred mentioned when he came to the Manor, he was underweight and tiny, and he remembered thinking about how he probably would have appreciated the downright monstrous proportions Dick was still accustomed to creating.

(He begged Alfred to let him help cater the funeral. It was all he could think to do. And when he saw how much was left, because Jason was a child and didn’t have an entire life to fill a funeral parlor, he cried and couldn’t bring himself to keep any of it.)

He told himself he would cook for Tim the second he realized Tim didn’t have a family to make home-cooked meals - but he never found the time, really. That and… Tim was so dedicated to helping Bruce, and Dick was still on… Rouge ice with Bruce, still recovering, and it was just… Hard. 

He was there for Tim, he spent time with him and he promised Jason’s memory he wouldn’t fail to be there again but he couldn’t cook for him yet. 

(Besides, Tim was just one person. Even if he had, it would be a lot of food waste.)

(That’s what he told himself, anyway.)

The first time he made Tim a meal it was soup, and Tim was bedridden and recovering from Red Hood breaking into the Titans tower and beating him near-to-death.

(Tim told him the Red Hood was Jason, and Dick had looked at the absolutely obnoxious amount of soup left and wondered if his first younger brother would have liked it, and he wondered if he had been kinder to Jason if he would have had to make Tim the soup at all.)

(He tells himself he’ll never cook for his first little brother, not after what he did to the younger.)


Jason comes back, but he still never cooks for him. He doesn’t cook for Tim, either, or Bruce. The soup was a desperate situation, Tim was in a lot of pain and Dick was struggling to find ways to connect with him anyway. 

Five people still isn’t the same as the circus. And yeah it was years ago, and maybe he should have learned to cook for less than twenty people but… Cooking was his and his dad’s - his and John’s. It wasn’t the same. He couldn’t.

So he didn’t cook for the five of them.

(He told himself it was because Jason liked Alfred’s cooking more. He wouldn’t acknowledge that Jason had never tried his cooking.)

When Bruce came home with Cass, Dick mused that maybe if this trend continued and Bruce filled the manor with children, then maybe one day he could cook for his family again. One day. 

He tried again after Damian came to the house. Eight - after he begged Jason and Steph to come to the manor - was… A good enough number, and maybe he was desperate for Tim and Damian to do something together that wasn’t trying to kill each other. 

It didn’t work. The night ended with vegetarian stir-fry on the roof, Bruce grounding Damian for threatening Tim again, Cass and Steph sneaking away to do something else, Jason commenting about how this always happened and leaving, Alfred cleaning before a single plate was clean, and Tim bleeding from a cut on his arm and sleeping in the empty Drake Manor with a comment about how ‘maybe life was easier before I had a family.’

Dick pretended he didn’t cry and swore to never try again. He had wanted to bring them closer together as a family (because no matter what Damian said, they were family, ) and it had failed. Cooking wasn’t the way. And that was the fine, cooking was from his other family’s anyway, his first family. 

(He told himself it was fine, and he told Alfred it was fine when he drove the several plates of stir-fry to a homeless shelter, and he told his empty car it was fine when he was crying on the drive back to Bludhaven, because the manor was too much.)

He promised himself he would find another way to bring them together. It didn’t have to be cooking. His family would be a family again one day.

But he never got that chance, because Bruce died, and Damian needed to be Robin, and Tim didn’t understand, and Cass went to Hong Kong and he had no goddamn clue where Tim even was and-

He was focused on Damian now. Alfred was the cook, and it was fine. He didn’t mind. He just had to make sure Damian was okay, and he could. 

(He told himself the fact he doesn’t cook is good for the Batman mantle anyway. Bruce was a nightmare in the kitchen anyway.)

(He never found the time to cry for Bruce.)

Bruce came back. And he brought Tim, too, and Cass called them again, and Jason let Dick know where the address to one of his safehouses was, and he thought maybe there’s hope. 

And he found hope again when Duke came to the house. He saw the way that Duke and Jason get along, and how them being there brought his first little brother home more. And he saw the way that, since finding Bruce, Tim is doing better, and he saw how Damian is doing better at not stabbing people, and Steph dropped by a lot, and Cass called him every Saturday.

(He still didn’t cook, but he mused to Wally one late night in their apartment that… Maybe one day. Maybe.)


(When Wally found out about the newer additions to the cast, they asked if it’s time, and Dick said maybe. It won’t happen right away. But one day.)

He told Kate that she has to try his homemade ginger scones, and promised she will one day.

Harper asked him if he’s ever made pancakes from scratch and whispered that it used to be Cullen’s favourite and he swears on his life that he’ll teach her one day.

He asked Carrie what her thoughts on homemade tortellini were, and mentioned he was really good at shaping them as a kid, and she begged him to show her sometime. He laughed and told her that maybe one day.

Cullen mentioned that Harper would always order enchiladas from a place down the street, because it was cheap and they were something she liked, but they were never good enough. Dick told him that he’s made several and his mom used to tell him they were one of his best. Cullen begged him to make them for Harper and Dick ruffled his hair and said he’d make them one day.

Selina caught onto his offhanded mentions of his ability to cook, and asked if he could make vegetarian dishes, and he said of course, and that she had to try his vegetarian lasagna one day.

One day, one day, one day.

He kept telling himself he’d cook one day and he kept not cooking and he kept wanting to because oh God did he miss the feeling of creating a meal, but the timing was never right. 

(But he knew the family was… Large enough now that it wouldn’t be obnoxious. It would be fine.)

(He still couldn’t find the right time.)


And then Bruce and Selina announced their engagement, and Dick decided it was now or never.

(And by ‘Dick decided’ he meant that Wally found out and literally demanded he take this chance.)

So he asked his entire family to come to the manor, and he asked them to bring their partners and, Hell, their friends if they wanted. The more the merrier, no matter what Bruce said. He also invited some of the League, because Bruce would never convince him he actually hated Oliver, Clark, or Hal as much as he claimed to.

(They had their announcement their way, anyway. This wasn’t about them, and Dick was pretty sure Bruce knew the engagement was nothing but an excuse for him to finally do this. To finally cook for his real family.)

So with a Manor full of too many people for Dick to count, he cooked.

And he grinned when Jason came in with some of the other Titans and definitely didn’t hide a wink when he saw him looking at Roy, who was lecturing Lian on how you couldn’t eat raw garlic bread. And he tried not to think it was weird that Jason was closer to his friends, but it was a little weird. He was happy his little brother was making friends though. (He’d never say that to Jason because he would definitely get a second bullet to the head by Little Wing.)

He pretended not to notice the way Tim was holding Kon’s hand when he came in with the Young Justice team, and laughed when Wally yelled at their cousin for stealing a slice of garlic bread and their boyfriend teleported away with them and the bread. Dick waited until he heard the distant cry to tell the Young Justice kids the garlic bread was not cooked yet. (He was so proud of his little brother, of the family’s Baby Bird for having friends, for getting out of that shell he met so many years ago.)

He laughed when Damian ran through the kitchen, dragging Jon and Colin by their arms because he ‘saw Alfred the Cat somewhere around here and you simply must meet him-’ (The family Baby Bat had made friends with such sweet kids that it kind of scared him, but wow did it make his heart flutter with pride. He’d grown so much.)

And Cass sat on the counter and entirely unsettled Wally by just sitting there and Dick subtly texted Steph to please spare his partner from Cass’ staring (even though Cass totally knew what he was doing,) and Wally whined that his little sister didn’t like them, and Dick laughed harder and didn’t ease those worries. (Wally knew Dick loved them. He couldn’t go letting them think his family did, too - had to keep them humble, after all. Plus, Cass was always a little entertained to tease new people.)

And when Duke came in and asked Dick why his family was so weird, because his normal non-super high-school friends were totally confused why Jason wasn’t dead and he was running out of excuses, he laughed and said to ask Barbara. (He wondered how they explained literally anything to any non-super friends. Had they seen Ed teleport earlier? Hadn’t Hal arrived in full Lantern gear?)

Three minutes later Barbara rolled in and asked why Duke was asking her to bring Jason back to life and he laughed so hard he spilled olive oil on Wally. (She mentioned that her dad had found the comfiest chair in the third lounge and sent a message that he was off duty, so he should avoid letting anyone commit crimes. He made no promises.)

And Harper came in with Violet, Tara, and Forager, and Dick was so very confused about how they explained to any of the ‘normal, non-super’ friends that Forager was there, but that’s fine, and Dick was happy to talk to them until they ‘got bored’ and left to go harass someone or another. (He was sure it would go fine. Probably. Violet was usually a good influence. He hoped.)

Carrie came in and asked Dick to show her what he was doing and asked a million questions, but before he had even gotten to step two, she was ducking under his arm and claiming she just remembered something else she needed to do. (Dick had turned to Wally and told them she was more hyperactive than him, and Wally had been insulted and relieved.)

And Selina came by with Alfred the Cat, and asked which way Damian and his friends went. When he told her, she went the opposite direction and said something like ‘don’t tell your brother where I want, little birdy, the cats need a break…’ and Dick made no promises but he’d probably listen. (She was going to be his stepmother, anyway.)

Cullen came by and begged Dick to tell Tim’s friends to stop bothering him, because he was almost done with this episode and they wouldn’t stop asking him if he wrote Destiel fanfiction, and Dick laughed and asked if he did. When he left, Dick and the Young Justice were right behind him and Bart and their boyfriend had produced Supernatural fanart to tease the boy.

Kate came in, took one look at the kitchen (and the olive oil puddle), said something like ‘Alfred will make you clean up, have fun’ and left.

Alfred told Dick at the start of the night he would avoid the kitchen at all costs, and he stuck to it. 

Bruce came in when he was plating, and asked if he could help. Dick had grinned and asked him to set the table, and Bruce did. All forty-five entire seats. And before he called everyone into the room, he kissed Dick’s forehead and said he was so proud and Dick had flushed and told Bruce not to embarrass him in front of Wally, who conveniently sped out of the room at that exact moment.

He had pretended to push Bruce off but he didn’t try at all, and was so quick to return the hug his partner would have been jealous, and only then did Bruce actually begin calling everyone into the dining room.

And it was chaotic. There were tons of people, and a million conversations, and heroes who worked in secret like himself, and those with no secrets like Forager and Garfield and people who weren’t heroes at all like Duke’s friends and it was chaotic!

And halfway through the dinner, Dick became exceptionally overwhelmed with emotion, and he teared up, and Bruce and Wally grabbed his arms in sync and asked with so much concern ‘What’s wrong?’ 

Dick had smiled so brightly and shaken his head, scrubbing tears from his face and struggling to speak through sobs and laughs alike, 

“ I’m with my family! ”

And it was so nice. He was with his family, and there was food he cooked, and it was finally a full house, and Dick felt at home. And no one threatened anyone, no one tried to fight anyone, it was nice. They were a family. 

(He cried again that night, but not out of sadness anymore. He was so happy. He wished everyone a good night and when he was closing his door in the manor and falling into Wally’s arms, he cried and could only ask, ‘why didn’t I do this sooner?’)

And there were no leftovers, and he was so, so happy.

The day had come, and he didn’t think it could have gone better.