Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Dick woke up he wasn’t sure what was going on. At one point he would have leapt from his bed with his escrima sticks sparking dangerously as a reaction but after everything he had been through, well, death wasn’t exactly something he was super concerned with at the moment. His brothers and sister didn’t really need him anymore and he’d already failed his city so if his death were to come suddenly, that was a luxury he didn’t deserve.

It took him a moment to realize that the noise was a knock on his door, one of the only real things he’d bothered to spend his meager cop pay on upgrading for himself in the beyond sketchy part of the city he had claimed as his own. He got up and dragged his bruised sorry ass out of his far too empty bed and to the door, a glowing stick in hand as he tried to ignore the whisper that he didn’t deserve the peace of death. When he opened it, the last thing he expected outside of his siblings was Harley in a black and red sundress with a large brimmed black sun hat that covered her blonde hair. What really caught his attention though was the tiny baby that couldn’t be more than a few weeks old in her arms.

“Hey Blue. Sorry ta drop in on ya like this. Can I come in?”

He was surprised but a shadow of Nightwing’s signature charming smile slid onto his face. He nearly flinched at how sharp and uncomfortable it felt now.

“Sure. It’s not much, but it’s…” He was going to say 'home' but that wasn’t true. He’d lost the only ‘home’s he’d ever had and wasn’t likely to have another one any time soon. “It’s what I’ve got.”

She looked hesitant but nodded and stepped into the room.

“So who’s this little angel?”

She was far more deflated and exhausted than he remembered ever seeing her but he didn’t have any room to talk. He wasn’t even beginning to pull himself together, not really.

“This is Pandora. Sorry for dropping in on you like this, Blue, but I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What’s wrong Harley? I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye but you can talk to me.”

A sad little smile graced her lips as she sagged into the worn out couch, the little girl sleeping soundly against her mother as Harley rocked her gently.

“Mista’ J happened. He found out about our daughter, Duella.”

It took a minute for Dick's exhausted brain to catch up. Lack of food and sleep really wasn't doing anything for his mental power.

“Duella? I didn’t realize she was yours.”

“Yeah. I knew I couldn’ let Mista’ J know about her so I gave her up as soon as she was born. She didn’t deserve to be involved with that.”

Dick could relate to that. He had long since given up on ever being enough for Bruce but he couldn’t stop caring for his family if he wanted to. Kids tended to have that effect.

“But she found out who her daddy was an' she, she had too much ‘a him. She’s gone now. He didn’t know till a few months ago and she was gone. He… he didn’ like I left him. He said I owed him a kid. When I escaped I didn’t know what ta' do so I’ve been hidin’. When ‘Dora was born I didn’t know where to go. I can’t let her end up like Duella but I…”

Dick’s heart broke as he watched Harley do everything she could but he knew she couldn’t have had a lot of options. He could relate to that. He moved to sit down next to her so he could better see the tiny girl.

“I don’t have a lot to offer you, Harley, but you and Pandora can stay as long as you want. I do have to warn you, theres a few people that come by every once in a while so you know. Roy comes over with his daughter sometimes. Lian is four. And…”

He trailed off. Anymore there weren’t a lot of other visitors. Tim refused to talk to him. Damian was looking more and more like the day he had first arrived every second he was around him. Jason and the fragile peace they had worked out were both a mess. The girls had closed themselves off from everything. Tim wasn’t much better. Dick just wanted his family back even if he knew he didn’t deserve it but he’d made his choice.

No. Bruce had made that choice for him.

He tried not to sound bitter but there was nothing for it. He was so furious that he wasn’t sure he was feeling much of anything anymore. He ran a hand down his face and took a breath.

“Looks like life hasn’ been too good ta you either huh?”

A wet, hysterical laughter bubbled up in his throat and he hated how it sounded even in his own ears.

“Yeah. That’s one way ta put it. I don’t have much but you can stay as long as you need to.” He stood up and put a hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest Harley.”

“Thanks, Blue, but only if you do too. You’re not lookin’ so good.”

“I…”

Could he even do it anymore?

“Ya don’t have ta tell me but I am a psychiatrist. If ya wanna talk, I’m happy ta help.”

He smiled and for once it didn’t feel like a bandage that was four sizes too tight.

“I appreciate that but I don’t think there’s much therapy can do. I passed that point a while ago.”

he seemed to roll that thought around in her mind and he thought she was finished before she spoke up.

“You’re only beyond help if you wanna be, Blue. You neva gave up on me. You deserve that if you want it.”

He nodded but moved into his bedroom and shut the door. He leaned against it and sank to the floor, his head falling into his arms as he let the tears soak his worn t-shirt and sweatpants. He was losing it. Twenty minutes later there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Blue?”

“Y-yeah?” He swiped at his eyes, anger threatening to overwhelm his guilt and shame again. No one should have to see him in that broken state.

“It doesn’ have to be therapy if ya wanna talk.”

He took a deep breath and got up with a groan. He opened the door to see her bouncing the little girl who was awake now and cooing quietly.

“Thanks Harley, really.”

He stuck a finger out to the baby who grabbed at it and examined the digit with an intensity he rarely saw on an infant. It made his heart ache for his brothers and sisters that he had done the best he could to be there for when he had no one. When he needed them most he had had to turn his back on them because yet again the choice was made for him. It was why he deserved for them to turn their backs on him. He didn’t deserve that comfort anyway.

“She is a cute little one. I remember when Lian was little. She loves other kids, not that she sees a lot of them.”

“She is. She’s the only good thing ta come out of Mista’ J. It’s why I decided on Pandora.”

He nodded. He had figured and the significance was not lost on him. He let the little girl play with his finger for a minute or so before he noticed the look Harley was giving him. He may have been the king of deflecting but he must have been slipping more than he thought. She was well aware of it but she was letting him have this for now.

A week later Roy showed up with Lian on a Sunday morning. They could hear the little girl babbling about something unintelligible as Dick opened the door for them.

“Hey Roy, Princess.”

In waltzed the Red Arrow just behind the little girl but his eyes instantly landed on Harley who was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with Pandora. Without a word Roy turned to his friend for explanation.

"Harley’s staying with me for a little while.”

“Who’s that?”

Lian was pointing to the little girl in Harley’s arms. “Ya must be Lian. This is Pandora.”

The little girl leaned over so she could see the baby better.

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Aren’t you a polite one.”

Roy was still staring into Dick's empty, tired eyes.

“You sure Dick?”

“Yeah. They just needed somewhere to stay for a while. It’s one of the few things I can actually do right now.”

He searched Dick’s face and nodded before he moved towards the kitchen.

“I hope you like popcorn and Looney Tunes.”

“I love Looney Tunes!”

Seeing his guest and house guest getting along, he moved towards his bedroom.

“Excellent. Give me a minute. I’ll grab some extra blankets and pillows.”

While he was digging through the bedroom. Roy came back and leaned back against the couch, side-eyeing Harley where she was sitting behind her daughter who was babbling at Lian.

“So, you been here long?”

“Just a week. Blue was nice enough to let us crash, isn’t that right, Dora?”

She bounced the little girl again, getting a gurgling laugh out of her and Lian giggled. It was a testament to how weird their lives had all gotten that the former super villainess was sitting in the run down living room with a baby that was weeks old with Red Arrow and his daughter totally at peace. That was when Dick came in with a monstrous mound of blankets, all of which were faded superhero themed that had clearly been well loved for a long time. The only exception was the large quilt that was almost threadbare in places. Lian tilted her head at the bright colors curiously.

“Unca’ Dick, what’s that one?”

He smiled, a tinge of sadness and anger at its core.

“It’s my special protection. Mom helped me make it a long time ago. It’s a quilt.”

She reached out and felt the rough waxy fabric carefully.

“This feels funny.”

Dick smiled genuinely.

“It would to you. It’s canvas. We used old pieces of circus tent to make it."

“Wow!” He pulled the blanket up to his chin like a child after a nightmare and settled in. Everyone was settled and happy for the moment and that was really all anyone could ask for.

It would be almost a month later and Harley had moved in with Poison Ivy when things would start to hit a breaking point. Damian being angry and bloodthirsty was about as common as Jason being violent. When he had first arrived at the manor he had been a complete disaster of an emotional brick wall. He would admit that internally but when he noticed the void that had been filled with pure anger he wasn’t sure what to do. He had never been very good with emotions. None of the bats or birds were. Dick had always been the exception, always the one that was so good at reaching out to take the touch that they all so desperately desired, always the one that made sure they all opened up when they were starting to get overwhelmed, always the one to be there for them whenever any of them needed it.

When Dick had died the family nearly shattered. Then he had returned from the dead and it was like all those wounds that had been left festering from Dick’s absence had gone necrotic and rotted away in the dark of their bottled up emotions only to be revealed when Dick had tried to return. To say Damian was left frustrated with the outcome was an understatement. He didn’t understand, wanted desperately to understand why his siblings couldn’t just be happy their brother and emotional pillar had returned. He'd never understood emotions. Still, everything and everyone was hurting including himself and he didn’t understand it at all. All he knew was that Dick was right there in front of them trying to help them understand and answer the questions they had but they were all pushing him away, even Bruce seemed to be filled with anger and pain whenever he looked at his eldest son. He just couldn’t help but feel he was missing something but even Dick, his batman, was keeping his mouth shut about that. With Dick only coming around on very rare occasions indeed and those occurrences becoming less and less Damian couldn’t help but feel like he was running out of time in a way that made his heart clench. He just didn’t understand and it was aggravating him. He felt like there was some ominous timer counting down and it was causing a rising anxiety that he had never felt before.

He had never felt anything before and then he’d been dumped with his father. That he had expected. He had not expected the whole slew of brothers and sisters that came with it. All of them had so many different strong personalities that were always vying for attention and he found himself wanting that too before he even realized it. That attention had come from their father, from Bruce Wayne, but it was Dick that had convinced him to really open himself up to it and begin to feel real emotions. It was no secret that all of those that donned the bat and bird insignia were emotionally constipated. Now that Dick was back within reach Damian was not going to let him slip through his fingers.

Just because his siblings and father were too ignorant to see it didn’t mean he was going to be stupid. To get the answers it was time to start digging.

There was nowhere better to start than Dick’s room at the manor. As far as he knew none of them had been in there since before his ‘death’ and even as he pushed open the door in the old wing he couldn’t help but feel like he was invading on his big brother’s privacy. He was out of options. Morality was something Bruce had imposed on him and Bruce was the one that had pushed Dick away so he shelved that and pushed onward. The room was so much like all the other bedrooms but it felt somehow warmer and more lived in than any of the other ones. The curtains on the same four poster bed that was in all of the bedrooms were bright garish red and yellow stripes with a green trim along the bottom. It was strange to see the old Robin colors in something like that. The rest of the room was filled with a bureau, a desk, and a bookshelf. The book case was filled with a few odd text books and notebooks that he curiously wandered over to. He noticed that one of the notebooks had a green ribbon sticking out of it. He decided to start there.

As Damien read the scribbled notes he felt nothing but ice cold rage flood his system. Robin was Dick’s name. No wonder he had been so angry when Jason took the name, when Bruce had taken it and given it away when it wasn’t his to give. No wonder. That also explained the curtains. Those weren’t just Robin’s colors; they were Dick’s colors, 'The Flying Grayson's colors. He felt he understood even less now. He could scan through the notebooks but he was suddenly struck by how afraid he felt about the whole situation. What was he going to find? He hugged the hand written book to his chest and in an unusually childish show, bit his bottom lip as he curled up in Dick’s bed. The room may have been unoccupied for ages but as he dug his nose into the pillow and inhaled he could still somehow smell the scent of safety and warmth. His breath suddenly caught as he realized that tears were falling from his eyes. He was so angry and tired. He just wanted his big brother back to give him his so freely offered hugs and reassurances that everything was going to be okay because Dick was there to watch over all of them.

Now he was gone.

He was gone and there was nothing that Damian could do because the others had made it clear that he wasn’t welcome there. His silent weeping broke into a wailing sob. He didn’t know that Bruce was walking by his wayward son’s room, absolutely not skulking and brooding.

Bruce's heart had stopped when he heard the cry of pain and for half a moment he was in a different time with far less scars. Dick was ten years old and had just woken up from another nightmare full of falling to his death, of his parents trying to claw him down to die with them, of fire burning away his flesh, of all the terror of angry locals nearly killing all of his family. Bruce had spent more than one night sitting with the boy to comfort him after a night terror so bad he would pass out from the panic attacks babbling away incoherently.

Another choking sob made it through the door and suddenly he was back. Dick had done exactly what he had asked him to do and his son had failed him. But that wasn’t entirely true. He had done everything he could to make Dick stronger than he ever could be because Bruce knew that he would never be strong enough to do what he knew had to be done to protect everyone. Dick had to be stronger. Bruce knew he was because he had to be.

And he was, until he wasn't. The only problem was he had to be. His other children would understand one day. It was what had to be done to protect the rest of the family. The time came and Dick had to be ready. There wasn’t another choice. Then he had broken and before Bruce realized what was happening all of his children were falling to pieces. If he had thought the death of his eldest had been hard on them, it was nothing on the rubble left by his eldest’s return. There hadn’t been another choice though. They would understand in time. Everything would be fine. He was spending more and more time with the League, leaving Gotham to his batlings and so he wasn’t able to spend as much time with them as he would have preferred but even he was able to pick up on how out of line the younger heroes were acting. Damian had been getting more and more blood thirsty and even Tim was filling hospital beds every time he went out on patrol. The girls were possibly even worse while Jason was rarely seen in the manor at all. Bruce tried not to think on how much damage he was doing.

Hearing his youngest, most volatile son weeping and wailing in the bedroom of his eldest he truly felt at a loss. Something had to be done but there was nothing else to be done. Dick was the only one strong enough to do it and he had crumbled. That was unacceptable when it really mattered. That got people killed and they couldn’t afford it in their line of work. If they weren’t strong enough, people died and it was their fault. That was simply the way the world they lived in worked. It was time Damian learned that. No matter how much it hurt him to hear Damian letting his overwhelming emotions pour from him like that, there was nothing else he could do. He walked away from the room he should never have been hovering around to start with. He had things to do and work to bury his head in.

When Damian approached Tim late that evening with puffy red eyes the older boy clearly was not interested in doing anything other than work. Since they had lost Dick, Tim had been closing himself off more and more from his family. Dick returning had just made Tim close up even more. Damian was out of choices though so there he was.

“Drake, I require your assistance.”

“What do you want, Demon Brat? I’m busy.”

His eyes never wavered from the screen as his fingers flew over the keyboard. His shoulders were hunched and dark black circles that rivaled any racoon reflected in the glow of the screen on the bat computer. No one knew how long it had been since he had slept more than an hour at a time. Dick had been the one to implement the 3 day rule and no one else had been able to get out of their own heads enough to pick up the slack and ensure it was followed.

“We’re missing information.”

“Why should I care? If you want info, talk to Babs.”

His voice was cold, far colder than it had ever been before when he was speaking to his family. It was the infamous Batman voice and it tickled at Damian’s volatile anger flaring again.

“Because nothing makes sense and I need your help!”

Tim paused at that and sighed, a hand scrubbing down his face. Damian needed him, his little brother needed him.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I want to know about the correspondence between father and Grayson when he was under cover.”

Tim suddenly snapped.

“There’s nothing else for us to know! He’s just like Batman and we should have all seen this coming! We were the stupid ones for letting him get to us and he should have known better than to just waltz back into our lives like it's nothing! Like we don't matter!”

Tim’s heavy breathing was the only thing heard for a moment until Damian spoke, his fists clenched so tight rivulets of blood ran down his knuckles in rivulets.

“Are you really going to accept things as they are when none of it makes any sense?”

he staring contest between the two finally ended and Tim typed away on the computer before he pulled up a list of audio files.

“Please, Bruce. I’ve done enough. I just want to come home. I know they don’t need me but I need them. I… I’m not strong enough to do this. I told you before I didn’t want to do this.”

That stung more than either of them expected. Then their father answered and they both froze.

“No.”

“He didn’t want to…?”

“Of course we need him!”

Damian was outraged by the mere concept that any of them didn’t require their big brother with them at all times when he was the only thing that kept any of them anywhere close to stable. Surely that wasn’t the way he saw himself. It couldn’t be.

Tim clicked on the last file in the list this time only to be greeted by Dick’s voice wracked with the chirpiness that was only ever present when Dick was in immense amounts of pain.

“Bruce, I’m not going to call again. I know you won’t respond. I know you think I’m stronger than I think but… never mind. It’s what you need me to be. I’m not sure I’m going to make it out of this one. Promise me you’ll take some time off for the kids. I know I’ve never been your son and I’ll never be more than your ward but they deserve to have a father. Bye.”

Both of them sat there in shock. They had always thought Dick was the untouchable one, the unfazeable one, the perfect one, the one that Bruce had always compared the rest of them to, the favorite son. This just didn’t match at all. They were still missing something though. There had to be something to indicate why Dick had done it at all. They didn’t find that. They did find the recording of when Dick faked his death only to find out there was no faking involved. Their brother and pillar of strength had died. They had truly lost him and when he wanted nothing more than to come back home to those he needed he had suffered for they had chased him out, chased him away. Damian stood frozen for a moment before whirling around. Tim’s shoulders finally collapsed in on himself and his head fell into his hands. He had never felt more alone and lonely than in that moment when all he wanted was to feel his big brother’s hug. But no. Those uplifting laughs and hugs that radiated safety were gone because Tim hadn’t cared to figure out why Dick had done what he did. It didn’t mean he had done the right thing but it wasn’t all his fault either. He should have listened. His brother had died and no one had so much as asked how he was doing. Damian had had weeks of work focussed on what had happened to work past it. Jason was still going through his own therapy of sorts but what about Dick? What about the perfect golden boy they all leaned on so much for everything? He felt rising bile as the image of Dick’s flatlined heart seemed to be burned onto his eyes.

“Ugh…”

He rushed to the trashcan and felt the shock and adrenaline flood his system. He hauled himself back into the chair and leaned on the console as he dialed Jason on the private com.

“What do you want, Replacement?”

“Please, Bruce. I’ve done enough. I just want to come home. I know they don’t need me but I need them. I told you before I’m not strong enough and I didn’t want to do this.”

There was a beat of silence. Damian had had enough.

“I’m not going to watch this anymore!”

“What the fuck was that?”

Damian vanished but Tim felt frozen.

“Dick isn’t okay. We… Jay, we fucked up… we fucked up bad.”

“What the hell is going on?!”

“That was a recording of Dick begging Bruce to let him come home 2 months into being undercover.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Tim remained where he was curled in a ball in the chair. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Jason arrived in his usual dervish of fury and anger.

"Explain.”

Tim replayed the video of their older brother’s death with his shaking hands and kept his head buried in his hands. When the heart monitor flatlined his stomach lurched again and he grabbed the trashcan again.

Jason was frozen as he watched the video with critical eyes. He watched the Batman threaten to kill Lex and he did his best to ignore the ice that was cinching around his heart like a bear trap. Green swam at the edges of his vision and that fury threatened to overwhelm him. The sound of Tim wretching tore him out of his angry reverie. Tim. His brother needed him. He reached out and put a hand on his shaking shoulder.

“Show me.”

Together they listened to not just the initial recording but all of them. In each one he sounded more and more tired and hollow with a chipper sound that was sounding more and more fragile. By the end of it Jason was feeling beyond ill. There was a green haze over his entire vision and he shakily reached for a cigarette. Bruce always told him off for smoking in the house. Bruce could go fuck off because why the fuck hadn’t he done anything about Dick when it was so clear he was breaking? Jason still remembered Bruce telling him that if he needed anything all he needed to do was ask. He’d assumed he had told Dick that too but now he wondered. What else had Dick not gotten. Dick’s own voice still haunted him.

“... they don’t need me…”

“This is bullshit. Where is he?”

Tim could hardly type with his hands shaking so badly.

“I… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don't know?”

Jason wasn’t even yelling anymore. It came out an angry hiss.

“His tracker’s off.”

“What do you mean his tracker is off?”

“Jesus Jay! I don’t know! I- He died. Oh god we actually lost him. He’s always there for us but we-”

Tim’s vision was starting to fade around the edges as he swayed.

“Breathe, Tim.”

Tim could feel Jason’s large strong hand squeezing and releasing his shoulder in a slow rhythmic pattern that he was able to align his breathing with. His vision cleared but then came the panic. He had to help their big brother. He needed them but where was he?

“Babs. We need to get her involved.”

Jason frowned. He knew that Barbra and Dick had had a… rocky relationship of sorts but he also knew that no matter what had happened, Dick desperately needed them and she did still care for all of them.

“Do it. I’m going to go check his hideouts.”

After procuring Damian’s help they started checking out Nightwing’s and Dick’s hideouts. What they found didn’t inspire confidence. The Gotham hideouts yielded nothing and had a shocking amount of security. They prayed their answers were in Bludhaven. If they weren’t, they didn’t know what they were going to do. Tim was on their private com link and Barbara had joined them. Judging from the time that had passed and the tremor in her voice Tim had sent her the information they’d dug up.

If normal people thought Gotham was dangerous, Bludhaven was a war zone. It was like Crime Alley had been expanded into an entire city during a riot. They made it to the building where their brother was living and quickly climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. The doormat, the only one on the hall, was a faded Justice League mat that was still so tacky but oh so Dick. Damian knocked on the door but Jason’s patience was in the negatives.

“OI! Dickhead! Open up before we kick it down!”

There was a moment before the door was opened by their wayward brother, their brother they had shoved away and blamed when all he really wanted was to be assured that it wasn’t for nothing, their brother they had done everything he could to keep what was left of his family together even if it meant he couldn’t be a part of it. He looked awful and not in the way a long night of patrol including a fight with a super villain usually left them. No, to reach this particular level of awful one had to have undergone an extensive amount of lack of self care. He wore a baggy sweatshirt and cargo pants but his bones stuck out grotesquely from the neck and his eyes stood out against the dark shadows around his eyes. He was obviously surprised but he quickly slid that fragile facade of a smile onto his face and it looked so wrong, like it physically hurt him to do it. Damian threw himself into Dick’s body and gripped his sweatshirt with everything he had. The first word out of his mouth did nothing but piss off Jason even more.

“I’m sorry.”

The diminutive figure was shaking against Dick but Jason wasn’t done and wasn’t letting Dick get away with the self sacrificing bullshit. His eyes narrowed.

“Don’t even try it. You’re coming home.”

Dick blinked owlishly at them, still clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Jay, no one wants me there. I don’t-”

“Bullshit!”

Jason’s eyes were almost entirely green as he got in Dick’s face, pushing him back and kicking the door shut behind him. Damian’s extra weight threw them both off balance and they fell in a heap on the couch. The apartment wasn’t a complete disaster more from obvious lack of activity than any real care.

“You, stay put.” Jason dialed up Tim. “We found him. The 3rd Bludhaven apartment.”

Without so much as a ‘bye’ he hung up and glowered at his older brother that just seemed to be in a state of shock, at least that’s what Jason thought at first. His stomach fell through the floor as he realized that wasn’t it. When he looked into Dick’s eyes he saw nothing, not a mask, not an act, not a front, pure emptiness. There wasn’t a single trace of that warmth that had always been their pillar of support, of that easy happy smile that always made them feel better no matter what. Dick was an empty shell but that wasn’t what hurt the most, no that was reserved for the fact that none of them freaking noticed. How had none of them realized what was going on? Why had it taken months for one of them to get out of their own heads enough to realize that something was seriously wrong, that they were missing something. That was when Tim slid into the room in a complete panic with Cassandra and Stephanie behind him. Both of the girls looked just as sick and panicked as the others did. Now that he was in front of his brother, Jason wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say. There was so much he wanted to say that it all just jumbled together between his brain and his mouth. Where was he supposed to start? He needed to make Dick understand that they needed him, that they had been angry because he had promised to always be there for them and he had betrayed that trust. He hadn’t been there when they needed him most. He ran a hand over his own face and felt his shoulders fall in defeat.

“Fuckin’ hell, Dick, what happened?”

Damian was still doing his best to imitate a leech with his face buried in Dick’s chest but the others seemed afraid to let themselves get too close. Tim still looked like he was about to be sick, his thin face covered in ashen grey skin.

“I’m weak. I couldn’t be as strong as I needed to be.”

While Jason was trying to find his tongue, Tim wasn’t having that problem.

“You don’t always have to be perfect! We didn’t need perfect! We needed our big brother.”

“I didn’t have a-” But he cut himself off and shut his eyes, a shudder wracking his system like he was in Gotham in early January. “I couldn’t protect you, any of you. All I had to do was be strong and I couldn’t-”

Jason finally found his tongue.

“Says who?”

“Bruce told me… I didn’t want-”

That was when he clamped his mouth shut and they could all see the pain in his face no matter how much he was still scrambling to keep himself together, determined to not let his siblings see how much of a mess he really was. Cass finally broke the silence.

“What… happened?”

Damian finally looked up to find his brother’s eyes.

“Please, talk to us?”

It was spoken far softer than anything any of them had ever heard from Damian before and Dick broke.

“I didn’t want to. I just wanted to protect people and then Bruce said that Spyral was trying to get our names, everyone's identities. I couldn’t loose any more. I couldn't let them get to you. I… I let them break me. I let them…”

They remembered their father’s words when he tried to return.

“You made me watch you die.”

They knew it was probably spoken out of fear and the same emotional constipation they were so used to but to let that get the better of him when Dick was already so fragile, when he’d been through so much without any help, that was just so wrong. Damian had yet to let up on his hold and spoke again, still sounding so small and unsure.

“We heard those calls between you and father. We heard what he said, what you wanted.”

Dick sighed and slowly that void was being filled but not with what they had hoped. Guilt, embarrassment and pain were filling every corner of the shell that was the former ray of sunshine. He was so cold and distant. Cass was beginning to panic. In an unusual show of restraint Jason focussed his eyes on his suffering brother and focussed on his breathing to force back the haze of green anger.

“You’re not the only one at fault here. We should have listened, should have noticed-” Another deep breath. “Dad should have said something.”

Dick's eyes exploded in size and panic but even his panicked rush was lacking energy.

“No! It was my fault! I should have been strong enough! I have to make sure you have a dad! I’m not worth-”

“What made you think we didn’t need you?!”

Stephanie’s knees were quaking dangerously as she spoke.

“Bruce made it clear when I left. I’m not his son. He’s better now. I had the choice. I couldn’t help him. I couldn’t save you. I…”

Jason was not letting him have even an inch more of self pity.

“And Bruce couldn’t do the Spyral mission himself why?”

“He raised me to be stronger than him. He wasn't strong enough to do it. I had to be. I…”

Something else was bothering Damian.

“Why didn’t you say the Robin name is yours?”

That got everyone’s attention.

“I… it didn’t matter. I already… When I got kicked out by Bruce, I was 16 I had nowhere to go. I was so angry. I didn’t think I would ever work with anyone ever again but before I knew what was happening I met Vic and Garth and Kori and Rachel and it was good for a while. I had a family. Then I heard there was a new Robin and everyone was confused. I was confused. I had to find something else even though ‘Robin’ was supposed to be mine, the one thing I didn’t think Bruce could take from me.”

Things were starting to fall into place. The rage Dick had held for their father, the coldness towards Jason, it was all clicking. Jason’s eyes narrowed. It would appear his father’s sins were worse than he thought.

“My mother and father used to call me their little robin. The colors were my colors, my family’s colors. To see it just given to someone else like it meant nothing without anyone so much as asking me… I didn’t understand. I was so furious. The last thing I had of my parents was given away like it was nothing and I… I’m so sorry Jason. I took it all out on you when it wasn’t your fault. I let it poison me when I should have been your brother.”

“Look, I’m no saint either but this is not all your fault. Bruce has been a douche bag to all of us but this… this is something we need to know about. We want to know if you’re hurting.”

Dick flinched as he broke a little more.

“I’m not worth destroying the only thing close to a family I have left.”

“Dammit Dick you deserve to be happy! You always tell us to talk to you if we need anything. We need you to talk to us, to tell us when you’re hurting.”

“But he’s your dad. You need that.”

Stephanie was nearly sitting on his feet now, eyes watering.

“But we need you and he’s your dad too though.”

Dick just shook his head, a small but true sad smile on his face.

“I was never his son. I wanted that more than anything and I thought it would be enough but… I gave up on that a long time ago. I was never adopted. I was only ever a ward that was thrown out when I wasn’t perfect with nothing, not even a name.”

“But…”

Damian was clearly trying to make sense of what he was hearing with what he knew. He just wasn’t sure about all this. It recontextualized a lot of what Bruce had said or not said throughout the years, the tension that had been between Bruce and Dick for years that was never addressed. Now it was making more sense to them all. Dick was always so tactile, even for normal people but for a bat that was unheard of. All he had really wanted was to know that he wasn’t alone but Bruce either didn’t care, unlikely considering how he had treated the rest of the kids, or he was so emotionally stunted that he didn’t know how to talk to Dick who wanted acknowledgment more than anything else, to know he was loved as a real son and not just a Robin. And with every passing day that human form of sunshine that brought so much light to their dark world grew a little cooler and icier with each emotional hurt until there was nothing left. Tim had his eyes fixed on the floor and spoke quietly, like he was afraid he would scare Dick away.

“Please come home, Dick. It’s worse than when we thought you were dead. It’s so empty. I’m sorry for telling you we didn’t need you. I was wrong. I… I’m sorry.”

A little bit of life seemed to come back into his face as he pulled the Red Robin into a hug on the other side of Damian.

“I’ve never blamed you for it, Tim. I’ve only ever wanted to make sure the family stays together even if I can’t be in it. I never really was enough for it.”

Jason had his fists on his hips now and was in his brother’s face again.

“Okay. That’s enough. You’re coming home now. I’ve got words for Bruce.”

Panic began to color Dick’s face again and he clutched his brothers closer to himself like a lifeline.

“Wait! That’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen! I already forgave Bruce a long time ago. Please, I can’t watch the family fall apart. I can’t. It’s all I have left.”

“No one tells me what to do, Grayson. You’re worth the fight. What’s he gonna do? Beat me up?”

“No. He’d never touch you.”

The wording was not lost on any of them.

“Did father ever hurt you?”

“I know you all think I’m some perfect golden boy but I was a mess. I was constantly in and out of juvie and Bruce didn’t know how to handle me. I didn’t know how to handle me. We fought so much. It’s a miracle we didn’t kill each other. It didn’t start getting really bad until he took you in Jason and then Slade..." He shook his head. "We were always at each other’s throats but we had to work together sometimes. Our spars got so bloody Alfred would have to step in almost every time. Then I died and Bruce wanted me to go undercover and I didn’t want to but I was the only one that could do it. I was the strong one. I had to do it. I… I had to prove it.”

He took a deep breath and let his fingers card through both Damian’s and Tim’s hair in a way that was comforting beyond words. He seemed to be drinking it in. This was what they were missing. Cass had moved to sit on the floor next to Stephanie at his feet leaving only Jason on his feet pacing in front of his brother with his fingers twitching relentlessly for a blade, for a gun, anything. He realized that he had to make a choice and he wasn't going to like it but it was what Dick needed him to do.

“I promise not to kill Bruce but only if you come home. And Jesus fucking christ Dick, talk to someone.”

Dick blinked at him and all of the sudden laughed. It was a hollow echo of the warm laugh that always lit up the room and quickly hedged on the edge of hysterical. Instead of filling the room with warmth it brought an icy chill.

“I already have a number. I promise. I will. I can’t lose anyone else. No more funerals. I just can’t anymore. I don’t have anything left to bury.”

“How many?”

He looked down at Stephanie and quirked an eyebrow, his cheeks looking so hollow and the circles under his eyes so dark.

“How many friends have I buried, friends have I lost, or friends I should have been there to bury?”

Stephanie pawed at his leg gently.

“Please, tell us about them.”

So he did. There were so many, a lot of which had been before Jason was even in the picture. He told them about Artemis, about not having a body to bury when Wally had been lost to the Speed Force, about the fall out between him and the titans when he’d cheated on Kori, Tarantula, Blockbuster’s death and letting it happen, about how he’d been blackmailed by Slade when he was hardly a teenager, about how he’d felt when Jason had died and the guilt that had racked him, about how he’d felt when Bruce died, when he’d had to be Bruce in front of the League without a chance to grieve and never letting on that he was gone, when he’d been sure he’d lost Damian for good, when he’d had to deal with his parents’ death day every year with no direction, when he’d lost Babs because he was too weak and damaged, all of it. He had never told anyone all of this and it left him feeling more drained than he ever had before. He wasn’t sure what was even happening around him but he had to admit that Harley was right. He was feeling a little better but it would be a long time before he would be anything close to okay. He would have his family around him though so he would make it. By the time he was done talking it was almost 2 am and none of them knew how to process the information overload. Of everyone he had talked about burying, they’d known about 3 of them. Dick only had one last thought in his head as everything else drained away and he drank in the presents of all of his siblings. Finally, the tired broken words he'd refused to allow himself to dwell on escaped his lips.

“I want to go home.”

Jason got up from where he was leaning on the filthy wall and let an old roguish smile that only Dick had seen before spread across his face. It was one from long before they had even heard of the Lazarus Pit, the same one Jason had worn when he tried to steal the hub caps on the batmobile or seen Wonder Woman for the first time.

“Come on Dickiebird. Let’s get your stuff gathered up so we can make it home in time for breakfast.”

It hadn’t taken too long in theory but because none of them were willing to move more than a few feet from Dick for more than a few seconds it took quite a bit longer. None of them were complaining By the time they had all piled into the manor with the two large cardboard boxes of stuff left in the middle of the foyer it was almost four am. All of them were about to drop from emotional and physical exhaustion but none of that mattered because Dick was home where he belonged. They didn’t even make it past the living room and piled up on the couch only to fall asleep in a matter of seconds. That was where Alfred found them an hour and a half later.

He’d been shocked when he saw Dick was back at the manor but even more concerning was the state the kids were in. It was clear that they were all completely drained but Dick was not looking good at all. He obviously hadn’t slept in at least a week and Alfred would bet his position as retainer that Sick hadn’t been eating. The fact that none of them so much as shifted was a testament to how tired they all were. All of the manor residents were notoriously light sleepers but the most he got out of them was Damian curling further into Dick’s side like he was afraid Duck was going to vanish. He was just glad they were all back where they belonged. Delighted, he went to the kitchen to make the largest meal Wayne Manor had seen in a very long time. It looked like brunch it was judging by how tired they all were. He wasn’t sure what had happened but it seemed like the siblings had managed to work at least some of their issues out. He just hoped Master Bruce would be able to figure out how to open up. He was finishing off a large pile of pancakes when Bruce came in looking far older than he had in years.

“Good morning Master Bruce!”

It was very nearly a chirp and had Bruce more than a little curious as to what would have Alfred so happy.

“Get a good night’s sleep last night?”

“Indeed but you should go see who came home at last night.”

He waved his batter covered spoon towards the living room prompting Bruce to investigate. There he saw all of his children with the exception of Barbara in a pile around the couch. It both hurt and filled him with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. He had been overwhelmed by the immense distance and anger that had come between them and the walls were only strengthened by the guilt Bruce felt that he wasn't able to be what his eldest needed. He had vowed that he would never do that to another child; he would be better.

Getting it right the second time hadn't been easy but it had been far easier than trying to mend his relationship with Dick. He’d kept his silence when his children were at each other’s throats because he didn’t know what to do to fix it. That and he knew there hadn’t been another option. He wasn’t strong enough to do what had to be done but he’d raised his eldest son to be better than himself, not just for the Spyral mission but so he could live a happier life than Bruce's, the life he deserved. If he wasn’t then that would mean he’d failed his son even worse than he thought. He wasn’t sure if he could bare that. He truly loved Dick but there was so much that he had been too blind to see, had been too worried to consider, had been too afraid to admit. Ultimately, for all that Dick had been able to handle, even at a young age, he was still a child and children needed things that he hadn’t realized or been too afraid to give at the time.

By the time he’d realized that, he’d already thrown Dick out and then Jason had fallen into his lap and things had just gotten more and more out of hand. He had vowed not to make the same mistakes but the fact that he’d still left his eldest son a complete mess remained. He hadn’t known how to reach out then. He wanted to but he was still holding to the shard that Dick was better than him. He didn't need Bruce to fail him again. He would be fine. It wasn’t until he’d seen Dick tied to that chair with more blood outside his body than in and his heart monitor flatline that the illusion had been shattered.

It was true that Dick was stronger than Bruce himself but even he had a breaking point and he hadn’t realized how much he was already being battered by everything. He hadn’t been even close to perfect with Jason either. He’d failed to protect him but he had been better. He realized how much of a perfect son Dick had tried so hard to be even with his behavioral issues when Jason didn’t even try, realized the “perfect moments” with him hadn’t been in martial arts training but in helping Dick with his English and the silly made up words Dick used, in the times Dick had reached out to him for a hug in the morning because he wanted a hug and missed his family, in all of the small moments of pride he'd felt when Dick did well on his report card. Then Jason died and Bruce lost another son. That was a dark time. Dick had still shown up and tried to at the very least offer him an olive branch regardless of the fact that Batman wasn’t the only one sending more and more criminals to the hospital with each passing night. Then Tim came barging into their lives demanding to be Robin because Batman needed a Robin and they both seemed to settle down some.

Dick always insisted on coming by the manor more and more to spend time with Alfred and Tim but he was still tense around Bruce even if Tim never really noticed. It was the same smile but there was a tightness in his lips that he’d never quite been able to get rid of when he was stressed. Then Red Hood showed up and he’d had to face another son he’d failed head on. He'd be willing to admit he didn't do a great job with that.

When he’d had to face Damian’s existence he’d been conflicted. It was no secret that Bruce Wayne would bed the most beautiful women and the occasional man around but he’d always made sure that there was no chance of an actual child resulting from their fun and if he gained a reputation as someone that always ensured his partners were taken care of, that was just another feather in his cap of social standing. He hadn’t wished to bed Thalia Al’ghoul and she had taken it anyway. He would never dream of telling his blood son that but he had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew.

It was the kind of thing Thalia would have told her son just to ensure her control of their son and of the situation. The girls had come along and become his in their own right but he was always afraid he was going to damage his children again. That was a thought he couldn’t stand so he tried not to dwell on it. That was why his eldest had to be as strong as he believed. That was why he couldn’t say anything when his children were hurting other than mourn with them and reassure himself that it was for the best, that it was keeping them safe, that Bruce was needed there. He’d made mistakes but he didn’t know how to fix it.

It would appear his children had figured out how to do what he hadn’t been able to and brought his eldest home at last judging by the size of the boxes. It worried him how tired and ill Dick looked. He still had muscle on his frame but his collar bones jutted sickeningly and the new depth of his always sharp cheek bones made him appear gaunt and more dead than alive. He just wanted his son to be okay, to have the life he deserved, the life Bruce had failed to give him. He hoped the clues were wrong but he chastised himself.

Hoping wasn’t a luxury he could afford when it came to his kids, he had to make sure he knew so he could help them. They deserved the world and then some. Seeing them all there in his home where they belonged lifted a weight off his chest he hadn’t realized was even there. It was so much easier to breathe. He smiled, the first true smile he remembered wearing in a long time, and went back into the kitchen. He approached the admittedly extravagant coffee machine and pushed the buttons until he had his quadruple pour-over in hand. He settled down at the island counter and glanced over the newspaper, somewhat curious as to what was going on in Gotham outside of the criminal underbelly.

“Ah, the comics. You always did enjoy the old Silver Spectre strips.”

“What can I say?”

They remained like that in their little bubble of peace for another hour or so before the kids shuffled in one at a time. The second to last to enter the kitchen was Damian who kept glancing back behind himself with an unreadable expression until Dick shuffled into the kitchen with a jaw cracking yawn. Jesus he looked like a skeleton. They all gathered around the island and took turns at getting their own versions of caffeine. Bruce set down his paper and offered his son a smile.

“Welcome home, son.”

“Thanks... Bruce. It’s good to be home.” Bruce flinched minutely at the use of his name instead of 'dad' but it was a start. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that Dick was indeed better than Bruce, all of his children were. He was trying to fix what Bruce hadn't been able to. This would all be done on Dick's terms. Damian was standing well within Dick’s personal space but he wasn’t the only one. It seemed that every few minutes another of the kids would float into his space and drift out of it again. It was interesting, especially since he wasn’t sure exactly what had been said but he was just glad things were beginning to straighten out and improve. Around then was when Barbara rolled in and Dick’s tense form curled in on himself further.

“Well hey there. Thanks for the brunch invite.”

Tim smiled at her but his eyes were on his oldest brother.

“Well duh. It’s family brunch time. We can’t have family brunch without all of the family here.”

“It’s good to see you back where you belong, Dweeb.” Dick actually wiped away tears at the nickname he hadn’t heard in years.

“Thanks, Dork.”

They still had a lot to work out but this was a start and that was all Dick had ever wanted.