Chapter Text
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat. “We’re all mad here. I’m mad, you’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat. “Or you wouldn’t have come here.”
—Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
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The high Dean had been riding out in the alley vanished the second he and Dick walked back into the bar and he spotted Dick’s brothers gathered around their table with Sam. It hit him like a punch to the gut. Tim and Damian had seen Dean kissing Dick. They knew. And there was no way that he was going to be able to convince Dick or his brothers to keep that a secret, especially not after their moment in the alley. Especially not when wanting to keep it secret was what had torn them apart in the first place. Sam would be suspicious anyway, after his reaction to Dick. He would want answers that Dean wasn’t sure he was ready to give him just yet.
Dean clenched his hands into tight fists. He had faced demons, ghouls, werewolves—an entire assortment of horrifying supernatural monsters. Why was facing his little brother sending a spike of fear through his gut greater than any of that nightmarish shit? It shouldn’t be. This was Sam. The boy he’d pulled from a burning building. Twice. The boy he had practically raised. Logically, he knew that Sam would not hate him, not for this. But Dean Winchester had never been very good at the whole “logic” thing.
Warm fingers suddenly wound around his wrist and pressed gently. Dean looked over to see Dick smiling softly at him and his fist loosened a bit to let Dick lace their fingers together. He squeezed them and took a deep breath before stepping up to the table. His chest was tight and his palms were clammy, but Dick never let him go, standing right there the whole time.
“Dean!” Sam looked up at him, smiling. His brows were drawn together in confusion. “Where the hell’d you go?” He didn’t seem to notice Dean’s fingers twined together with Dick’s at first. Dean saw the instant he did, his eyes going wide and lighting with a suddenly sharp and knowing look, lips parting in shock.
He cleared his throat and hurriedly tugged his hand out of Dick’s, speaking before Sam could say anything else.
“Had to work something out with Dick,” he said.
Damian, who was looking up at the two of them with a knowing smirk, snorted. “From where we were standing it looked like you were doing more than ‘working something out’.”
Dick swiftly kicked him in the ankle. “Hush, Dami.”
Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. “So you two know each other then,” he said.
“Obviously,” Jason said, eyeing Dean and Dick speculatively. He cocked his head to the side. “So… hang on a second. This is that Dean? The guy Babs said broke your heart in high school?”
Dick scowled. “I never said—He didn’t break my heart. We dated, we broke up. Shit happened,” he snapped defensively, crossing his arms and glaring down at his brother.
Sam, oddly enough, didn’t react to the revelation that Dean had apparently dated Dick in high school. Dated. God, now he was using that word. He cringed mentally and tried to keep his thoughts in order. He had damage to minimize.
“Something you wanna tell me, Dean?” Sam asked. There was amusement in his voice. Fucking amusement. Like this was all some hilarious misadventure in the life of Dean Winchester. He scowled and clenched his fists again.
“Yeah, alright,” he snapped. “Dick was my… boyfriend for a few months.” Goddamnit that word tasted weird in his mouth. “We screwed around. So what?”
Sam raised a brow in that condescending, patronizing way of his and Dean wanted to deck him one good time just to wipe that look off of his face.
“So… nothing…?” Sam said, voice raising a bit at the end of the second word. “I don’t care who you screw around with Dean. Or who you screwed around with in high school. That is a list longer than my fucking arm, dude. It’s not like this is some huge revelation.”
Dean frowned. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. What? You want me to start ranting about homosexuality and fire and brimstone or something? I’m not some conservative pastor in a Baptist church, Dean. I’m your brother. I couldn’t care less who you fuck.”
“You seriously have nothing to say about this?” Dean demanded.
Dick smirked a bit, nudging him in the side. “I told you, Dean.”
Sam smiled. “Should I?”
Dean threw his hands up and sat down heavily next to his brother. “Jesus. That was a decade’s worth of freaking out over nothing.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t blame me for you own fucked up psyche.”
The weird tension Dean had felt dissipated some. He could still feel eyes on him whenever Dick sat down next to him and carefully wrapped their hands together. He tugged it away and Dick let it go, glancing at him sharply, but not saying a word. Hopefully he could at least understand how very much Dean was not going to be into the whole PDA thing. Especially not holding hands like he was some fucking girl, Christ.
“Well,” Jason leaned forward, changing the subject. “Now that that weirdness is all sorted out, how’s about someone tells me why I’m lucky enough to have my dinner crashed by not one, but three annoying little birds.” He paused, glanced at Dick and corrected himself. “Or should I say one big bird and two little birds.”
“Ha, hilarious, Jay,” Dick rolled his eyes. “We’re here about Arkham. We need all-hands-on-deck here, and we figured you’d want in.” He glanced sideways at Dean and Sam. “And, after talking to Dean about your last case, I figure we can use his and Sam’s help too.”
“Whoa,” Jason leaned back, looking a bit stunned. “Not only are you asking me for help, but you’re asking two total strangers to come in on this? You must be desperate. That, or Bruce is out of town.”
Dick frowned. “A bit of both, actually.”
“Um,” Sam leaned forward. “What exactly are we talking about here?” he asked, looking from Dean to Dick to Jason. “What’s going on?”
Looking around, Dick sighed. “We should probably go somewhere more private to have this talk, really.” He glanced over at Tim and Damian. “But the cliff-notes is this: we’ve got a problem that seems to be up yours and Dean’s alley. You’ve heard of Arkham, right? We think it might be haunted.”
Tim frowned. “Dick thinks it’s haunted. I think that’s a little far-fetched at the moment. We don’t have enough facts yet.”
“Either way, we could use the help. Dean agreed.”
Sam eyed Dean with a faint frown. “Okay, but… why exactly is Arkham your problem anyway?”
Tim shot Dick a hard look that reminded Dean far too much of Sam’s bitchface. “Yeah, Dick, why is Arkham our problem? Care to explain how we’re going to get Dean and Sam’s help here without bringing them in on everything else?”
Tim and Sam would be fucking best friends, Dean decided instantly. That was the same tone, the same annoying little patronizing look. Jesus. How were there two of him?
“Well,” Dick looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kinda already spilled to Dean. So.”
“What!?” Damian seemed outraged. “Grayson! I know your mind is clouded with hormones at the moment, making you even stupider than usual, but how could you be that reckless? Without even speaking to us about it first!?”
Dick rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. I should’ve… I should’ve waited, talked it over with Bruce, but. We’re on a tight schedule here. Arkham’s starting to look like a ticking bomb. And I trust Dean.”
Jason laughed and shook his head. “Wow. Dickiebird making judgment calls based on what his dick’s saying. That’s almost funny.”
“Oh, shut up, Jason.” Dick scowled at him. “I made the call. I’ll deal with any consequences, I already said that. If Bruce wants to read me the riot act later he can. Right now, our priority is saving lives.” His eyes shot to Jason. “So are you in or what?”
Jason seemed to think about it for a second. “I don’t know. It’s kind of funny how you guys want nothing to do with me for months and then, the second you get yourselves in hot water you come running to me, begging for my help.”
“We aren’t begging for anything, Todd,” Damian practically sneered. “We’re offering to let you help us. And I for one think it’s a bad idea. We don’t need your help.”
Dick sighed and shot the younger boy an annoyed look. “We aren’t begging, he’s right about that. We’re asking, Jay. We want your help—” Damian snorted and Dick glared at him before continuing, “—Arkham is getting out of hand and we could really use another pair of hands in the field.”
Jason’s mouth pressed into a tight line and Dean leaned toward him. “C’mon, dude. They’re your family and they’re asking for help. How can you turn that down? Plus, haunted asylum full of crazy people. That alone is worth saying yes.”
Jason cracked a smile, but shook his head. “You don’t know them like I do, Dean. Family isn’t the word I’d use to describe us.”
“Something we can agree on,” Damian muttered. That time Dick stepped on his foot under the table, causing the kid to swear under his breath. Dean smirked.
“Look,” Tim said, “I know we don’t always get along, but we could really use the help, Jason. We’re all on the same side here, right? We just want to stop whoever—whatever is hurting people in Arkham. Please.”
For a moment, Jason was silent. Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, yeah. Can’t leave you hanging in the lurch, I guess. Besides, it is Arkham. Bound to be interesting, at least.”
Sam was frowning, his lips pursed in that thoughtful way that meant his brain was turning wheels way too fast. “Why do I feel like I’m the only person here who doesn’t know what the hell is going on?”
Dick sighed, standing up. Tim and Damian followed suit. “Sorry. We’ll finish this later. Just, you guys finish up here and meet us back at the Cave, okay, Jay? I’ll lay everything out for you guys then.”
Jason nodded. “Right, we’ll be there in twenty. In the meantime,” he glanced at Dean. “I kinda want to know more about this doomed high school romance. Babs never gave me any details. Spill, Winchester.”