Chapter Text
MENTOR
From the very moment Mr Wayne obtained 'permanent guardianship' over him, Dick had been clear. No one could ever replace his parents! Not Pop Haly, not Zikta, not Alfred and not Mr Wayne! It was a fact of life. Their show-stopping wings had been clipped by a monster named Tony Zucco, who was now rotting away in prison, breathing air that he robbed from them. So, how could Dick allow their position as his parents to also be stolen?
Robin didn't need another parent either; he needed training, which was something he could allow Batman to – albeit reluctantly – give him.
This first year of patrolling together had felt like an endless pop quiz. Not that Dick hadn't asked for it, hadn't begged for it, didn't grin every time he figured out the correct answers. But after some time, it made him ponder certain things. Dick couldn’t help comparing his own sense of worth to Batman's cause and questioning whether he was really ready to commit to this despite being the one so adamant about fighting crime.
He began to ask himself why Mr Wayne was helping him so much in the first place. Why did he take him in and treat him kindly and distantly and strictly and who was he to Mr Wayne? Dick's thoughts fell over one another. Now, come to think of it, who was Mr Wayne to him?
There was one night in particular when he believed his question was answered.
They had been on patrol in the Batmobile when they caught wind on one of GPD's radios that Penguin was escaping Arkham again and was proving tough to track, which Robin found odd since surely he couldn't have that many safe houses that the police officers couldn't find, right? But then he recalled what Batman had said about the corruption the new commissioner – Jim Gordon – was still trying to weed out from the force, and figured it made sense.
"Keep your seat belt on," was the only warning he got before Batman punched it. Robin startled into a giggle and did as he was told.
"Holy speed, Batman! We must be going faster than the Batplane!"
"Hn."
Once they found the place, it was like something took over them. Some sloppy goons with knives protecting the abandoned building ran up behind the duo as they surveyed the area. They were no match for Robin, who flew into punches and watched Batman's back as the man slipped off to find Penguin without a word.
Only when Robin was done zip-tying those men up and calling the police on a public line did he realise how quickly Batman had turned his back to him. It was what made him think about this in the first place.
Batman hadn't in the beginning; he had always been obsessed with keeping an eye on Robin at all times, sometimes at the risk of not completing the mission like some sort of mentor would. Robin even overheard the man asking Alfred to prioritise manning Robin's comms over his own just before patrol one time, a couple of months back. It had made him pout the whole night at not being taken seriously; he wasn't a little kid anymore! He was almost ten, and ten-year-olds deserved respect that the adults in his life clearly didn’t want to give him!
Except tonight, apparently, because when Batman had wordlessly run off, it was as though, for the first time ever, he truly trusted Robin to handle things himself. This wasn't a test; Batman would have to be there for that. No, this was something different. Robin thought about it even once Penguin was captured, and they went back to surveying the city again. Robin even thought about it during breakfast the next day, over a bowl of frosted flakes he got in exchange for his recent good grades.
Mr Wayne was his mentor, sure, but mentors didn't trust their mentees so deeply when they hadn't even given them any sort of advice to work off of. Mentors didn't turn their backs on their mentees as if an attack from behind was an impossibility. Especially paranoid men like Mr Wayne. Like Batman.
Mr Wayne was his mentor, but he was also something else.
PARTNER
GPD officers typically came in pairs. Usually, Robin found it amusing since it was like watching a pair of beavers waddle around every time they left their vehicles. But tonight, a good few years into the job, he couldn't stand it.
"I said, move your car! Clayface is coming, and anything you leave here will get destroyed and absorbed! It'll only make him stronger!" Robin tried to explain, waving his green-clad arms around as his yellow cape flapped in the wind, and a policeman and woman stared him down. Batman couldn't keep Clayface away for long with how deformed his body was. How it moved like massive murky brown waves approaching them at an overwhelming rate. They had to get going. Now!
"Listen, stupid kid, we've gotta shoot 'im!" The policeman said, cocking his gun as he crouched behind his car. The pair looked new; he'd never seen them before. "I've already got my orders. Stop trying to stir up trouble for us.”
Robin frowned from his seat on a nearby lamppost, peering down the road where he could see the sludge beginning to turn the corner their way. "Your orders suck! I'm telling you to move the car because it'll save your lives! Get out of here!"
The policewoman mirrored her partner's sceptical look. "Who even are you?"
He huffed, hands on hips. "Robin. Doesn't matter, just—!"
The man's eyes widened in recognition. "Hey, wait. Ain't you with the Bat?"
"And here I was starting to think there were two colourfully dressed vigilantes running around late at night in Gotham, stopping crime," Dick rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm with the Bat! Who else would I be with?"
The policewoman still sounded wary, not fully trusting or comfortable with neither he nor her own partner, it seemed. "The Batman?"
Robin yelled. "Yes!"
"Prove it," she said as if the sludge wasn't starting down the street. No number of bullets was going to stop this. Robin reached for his grappling gun and began to beg with his hidden eyes. If not the car, he could at least keep them from being swallowed up.
"I'm his— I'm his partner, OK?"
"The dynamic duo," the policeman muttered.
"Robin!" His comms sparked to life as Batman barked. "Get them out of there. Now!"
He was trying to!
"Come with me," Robin said, easily jumping down and reaching out to one of them instead of responding to Batman on comms. As if two parts of a whole, the moment the policeman took his hand, so did the policewoman. They changed their tone to be polite to him and each other as they kindly got the hell out of there. Or, whoops, 'ran away'.
Sorry, Alfred.
Once Clayface was contained and forced unconscious by some brilliant chemist at the city's disposal – some man who only agreed to help because Clayface had wrecked his government-funded office – Robin and Batman reached a rooftop and tried to process everything.
It took a while before either of them spoke, and when they did...
"You know—"
"I would like—"
Robin giggled just like he had a few years back in the Batmobile, but in a way that was fuller than it had been when he first started. Freer.
"You can go first," Batman calmly gestured with something tugging at his lips and a wave of his worn black cape that had a thin layer of immobile clay dust on it. If they had been anyone else, a wash would do, but they couldn't be OK with that. Who knew what the dust could become? Robin was certain that the cape would be safely disposed of on their way back, so Clayface couldn't materialise in their most vulnerable hideout.
"Holy competence, Batman! I'm going to need the Commish to make me a pass."
"A pass?" Batman asked curiously. Robin knew if the cowl was off, one of Bruce's eyebrows would be raised.
"A pass saying, 'if Robin tells you to do something, just do it!'"
The man's lips twitched again at that, but his voice remained carefully level. "I'm sure we can have something sorted out."
"What? Really?" He gaped, not at all expecting such a quick and easy response.
"Sure, chum. Not a tangible one, of course, but you are my partner. It only makes sense."
Robin's lips grew into a wide grin as he stretched all his limbs to release some of his pent-up energy. "Yup! It makes a lot of sense.”
Batman nodded, turning to survey the city. A small smile finally took form on his face as he did.
"So...what'd you wanna say?" Robin prodded a beat later, used to the way his partner faded out from time to time when around him. It felt good that he trusted him enough to do so.
"Oh," Batman startled, which was odd. Robin felt a bit of concern creep into the pit of his stomach. "I simply wanted to say well done, chum."
Hmmm. "You sure that's it?"
"I am. I...I hope you never feel...inadequate when talking to others. You work just as hard as I do, you make a difference and...you matter just as much as me," Batman rested a hand on his shoulder, waited, then pulled him under his cape and brought him close. Robin blinked in surprise before eagerly leaning into it. He leaned so close into the hug that he could smell the rotten sulfur dioxide smell from the streets Batman had been dragged down. It all made him smile. Bruce had gotten much better at physical contact after that first year.
But why was he saying all of this?
"Wha..." Ah, he must've overheard their conversation. Robin never did mute himself. "It's OK, Batman. I'm not upset."
"...Good," the man grumbled some moments later, rubbing his back and suddenly the term ‘partner’ sounded all wrong.
Robin recalled the distant way those officers were with each other as he hugged back just as hard. He thought about how Bruce treated him well, showed him physical affection, and bent to his wants day and night as best as he could. Better than those cops ever would to each other.
It wasn’t the same.
Maybe they weren't exactly just partners either.
But then, what were they?
FRIEND
"Recognised: Batman-02."
When the Zeta Tube booted up, Dick didn't know whether to be worried or not. He wasn't even wearing the Robin suit anymore, except for the domino mask. Surely this wasn't another mission after they just got back from one? Were hundreds of lives saved not enough for one night? Ugh.
It wasn’t like he was avoiding the man; it was just...he had been hoping he would only see Bruce or Batman at home. Not here in their base with what was likely more work that he and his team wouldn't be able to bring themselves to turn down no matter how much they wanted to.
But whatever...Dick had had worse nights.
And his mind was already so scrambled recently, maybe this would help.
As his best friend tended to, Wally zipped in a moment before trouble arrived – AKA when Batman fully materialised – with his freshly wet red hair dripping all over the place. Compared to Wally, Batman was dry, well-put-together and as alert as always. They were almost complete opposites in that sense. It amused him to no end.
"Shit, is something going on?" Wally whispered to Dick, who stretched his arms behind his neck and casually walked over to the man in all black.
"No idea," Dick shrugged before letting a smooth grin take over his adolescent features. It was a grin that had the girls he didn't like swooning, and the girls he was interested in ignoring him. Heroism, high school, and galas were all confusing.
"Lemme guess, you're here with some muffins Agent A passed on to you," Dick joked once they were close enough.
"Really? No way! Did he put raspberries in mine?" Wally immediately asked, playing along with it. He had been over a few times in his civies after all. Alfred did know his preferences.
Batman paused for a moment. The sigh that left his holy temple of a body that he could control even to his heart rate was only permitted to because of the friendly company he was in.
"Call the team over. There's been a development in a previously closed case that requires your attention."
Dick couldn't help his snort even as his heart dropped at the order. "That wasn't a no..."
Another exhale.
"Chum."
"Alright, fine. C'mon Wally,” he said as they went to do their duties without further protest.
"Want me to carry you?" His friend offered. Dick snorted once more.
"It'll take us twenty seconds to find the others without superspeed. Twenty seconds, man. You can resist carrying me for that long."
"Boooooo."
But Dick knew he was right. It didn't seem to be an emergency, and most of the others probably didn't have their comms on. Judging by their friends' approximate positions in their base, it would take twenty seconds to find their first one and then their overall speed would increase. They had the time to stroll, and for Dick’s occupied mind to have some space to think.
Chum, chum, chum.
That nickname had been on Dick's mind lately. It had split his focus during the mission they just concluded, and his 10th-grade induction week he had just started. It was why he wanted to sleep more and think less sometimes. It was the idea that he might have a friend he had never even realised in Batman. In Bruce.
Dick couldn't remember when the term had first been said. He couldn't even be sure if it was something said before Dick donned his cape or not. All he knew was that at some point, Bruce just called him that all the time and...Dick didn't know how to feel.
OK, that wasn’t true. He didn't mind it, and the intimacy of it being the name Bruce's own dad used to call him was a plus. 'Chum' meant friend as well as fish, and Bruce didn't tend to eat him with rice and soy sauce, so Dick was betting that Bruce saw him as a good friend even more than he saw him as a partner, right?
That was a good thing.
Just before he and Wally entered the corridor, Dick turned around to see Batman setting up the translucent screen that had previously shut down after their mission. Dick turned around and gave the whole scene a weary look. He didn't want to protest, but he still wasn't happy that this was happening when he had been ready to go home.
Batman instantly noticed Dick's apprehension, because of course he did, and shook his head in response. The small tug at the edge of his lips made Dick's own spread wide, and he finally left the room with a soaring heart, slowly following Wally.
Large age gaps between friends existed.
Dick and Bruce understood each other, lived together, respected each other, had secrets with each other, built inside jokes and were happy to get physical, whether that be hugs or roughhousing, whenever they felt like it. Just like he and Wally did after particularly frustrating games of Mario Kart or missions. They were extraordinary friends who taught, trusted, and cared for each other in their own unique way. Just like how Dick believed in, learned, and took from each of his other friends in the base or at school.
He brushed most of the other thoughts away by focusing on one.
Large age gaps between friends existed.
"Oi,” Wally complained. “You coming? Or do I actually have to—?"
"Race you!" Dick quipped back, much to his friend’s mischievous expression.
"I'll beat you, weak human!"
"Not without using your shitty powers, you won't!"
So, at a speed faster than necessary, Dick and Wally grabbed the team and brought them all in for the briefing. His busy mind was momentarily able to force back the thoughts he had been stewing on as he took on board the new instructions given in that low, growling voice only Batman had. A lone driver. OK, that's an easy target; they could handle that. A deadly weapon. Alright, they would make sure not to get too cocky. A sharp deadline, maybe Wally could carry them all.
Robin was completely focused again because he was a professional who could fixate on the mission…until when the group suited up for their late-night detour, Dick peered over to Batman signalling to him.
On second thought, Dick’s mind could not accept the conclusion he had come to as correct.
As Batman signed for him to add his backup smoke pellets to his belt after forgetting to in a recent patrol, Dick was suddenly hit with the memory of the man scolding him for it some days ago. He remembered how Bruce had walked towards him, brushing the dirt off of Dick's face and pinched his cheeks. He recalled sticking his own tongue out at the man and the low — but free, so free — chuckle Bruce let out in response. And Dick reminisced on how warm he felt in its wake.
Large age gaps between friends existed.
It made perfect sense.
Except...it didn't.
Somehow, the term 'friend' didn't quite seem like the right word to describe them either. Because his other friends didn't tell him to eat his vegetables. His other friends didn't take care of his needs when he got hurt. None of them acted like Bruce did, and he didn't want them to.
No matter what Bruce thought of him, Dick couldn't help but want to see the man after every bad dream. Every bad day. Every bad case. And every good thing too. They didn't even have to be talking, he just wanted him there and to know that he’d never leave him. And that was not something he felt about any of his other friends. Even Wally.
Back to the drawing board, then.
GUARDIAN
In the time leading up to the end of his wardship, he felt his love for Bruce deepen and his dependency on the man accumulate until Dick often spent days just reflecting on him, them, everything. In a way that he now knew was delusional.
Dick used to sit in deeply, hidden awe of how much Bruce had done for him over the years for no real reason. How he was a hero to him and countless others despite Bruce's vehement disagreement. Dick stewed in sharp frustration on how incredibly difficult the man was to be close to, which was only dulled by the fact that Bruce tried so hard to make things easier and eventually found a middle ground between indecipherable grunts and wide fake smiles.
Dick convinced himself it was enough and stressed over what things would be like if he lost Bruce in the future. He wasn't ready to be an adult, to attend college, to turn Robin into a man and be Dick Grayson, the Wayne heir. He felt more off balance than he ever had in his life when he realised that might not be what he wanted. He had been angrier at himself than ever because knowing that was like spitting in Bruce's face. So, Dick told himself that he wouldn't outright reject the life Bruce wanted him to live. Not for anything.
Dick believed he needed Bruce, and he thought Bruce needed him, too. But only once the man had told Dick he was too irresponsible for the fiftieth time did Dick finally understand that he had already failed. Maybe they weren't as suited as he thought because he couldn't do this anymore. Dick quit that day and got out of his guardian's hair a week before he became a legal adult. He left the cave to rip off the Band-Aid, he left the city to become something else.
Now that Dick had a choice, things were different. He could see everything clearly now with the yellow-tinted glasses lifted, revealing what this relationship really was.
A transactional one.
Bruce had given him money, training, and stability, and Dick had given him his love, support, and an heir. At some point, it hadn't been enough, so Dick ended their contract. Indefinitely.
This new mental shift was something Dick was forcing himself to get used to. He was reconditioning himself to live without that man and his butler in his life. He was reunderstanding what he really wanted to do, and Dick was planning how he could pay off what he knew he owed Bruce as soon as possible.
But clearly, he hadn't been quick enough because his debt collector just wouldn't leave him alone. Even during this distance, Bruce still kept him close in his own way. As if he, too, needed to keep an eye on Dick. Because, naturally, although Dick was no longer useful to Bruce, Bruce was allowed to stare at his colourful delight of a new costume in his contrastingly embarrassing furry outfit for however long he needed.
He was allowed to stalk him because that was a 'non-negotiable' byproduct of what they had been through. Because Dick owed Bruce this much. Because it hurt no one.
Fuck that narrative. Fuck Bruce's stupid decisions. Fuck him.
Bruce was a complete and utter asshole, and everything hurt so much.
"What are you doing here?" Dick growled at the slightly ajar living room window and the man hovering nearby, pissed at the shitty attempt at stealth his ex-mentor-partner-friend-guardian- whatever displayed. Dick had just landed this place with some money he had saved up in a separate bank account, but it looked like he would have to take all of his belongings and move his life elsewhere for the second time in a month.
He should've known. Just hours ago, when Dick had been buying more meds to deal with the later stages of an infection he got in his new costume, he overheard people talking about Batman fighting Two-Face. The man who hit him hard enough for Bruce to start brandishing him ‘useless’ in the first place.
But, then why was he here in Dick's space, crossing Dick's boundaries right after that? Maybe Batman had some pent-up anger left and wanted to let it out on the charity case he brought up, which he didn't get a return on investment with. The charity case he clearly hated.
The thought made Dick almost as sick as seeing Bruce invade his privacy for the second time that month did. He wondered how Barbara still worked with this bastard.
"Chum..."
Dick whipped around, feeling the mullet he had been growing out brush against the back of his stiff neck as the man skulked further inside. "Fuck you! Get the hell out!"
Batm— Bruce's voice coming out of Batman mumbled. "I...I needed to see that you were...that..."
Dick scoffed so hard he nearly choked. "'Alright?' Well, fuck you. You don't get to ask that."
"I—"
"I can't believe you're here," Dick crossed his arms protectively around himself, muting the TV he had been watching to distract himself from his infection. "You stalked me...you actually..."
"Dick..."
He could feel a headache building as fast as the nausea. "No, shut up. Shut up! You...you wanted me to see myself out for ages, and now you're here to what? Keep tabs on me? To take out your frustration? I guess with only an old man in the house, you missed your regular punching bag."
It was satisfying to watch how shock slapped Batm— Bruce in the face. Maybe Dick should add his hand to the mix. The man, who usually had perfect control of himself, even tripped back on his own cape as he attempted to regain it.
"I don't...I would never...I am your guardian, Dick!"
Guardian!
Holy Fuck, Batman! You're insane!
"Not anymore!" Dick heaved a wet breath, his sapphire eyes burned. "I'm eighteen now. You...you have no rights over me."
Because he wasn't adopted, not properly. He wasn't permanent. He had been a billionaire's whim and never knew it. All this time, he had been a blind idiot.
"Enough of this!" Batman admonished, and it was then that Dick lost it.
"Get out! You've ruined it! I just got this place and you ruined it all!"
"I am—"
"You creepy—"
"—r guardian, Dick. It's my job to—"
"—manipulative—"
"Just listen to me!"
"—stalker!" Dick screeched.
It took watching Batman's cape flap out of the window and into the distance for Dick to break down and hold his hand back from reaching out. From begging Bruce to come back because he had had a bad day, a horrible day out here on his own. And he wanted Bruce, as he always did, but he hated him just as much.