Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This mindless fear toward ‘witches’ is the same kind of fear that fueled the Lavender Scare. It’s the fear of what… of… dammit, of what?!” Dick screamed into his pillow. 

It was a dreary day, the skies cloudy and the city laden with a thick fog. He flopped onto his bed and looked out his window to distract him from the itching on his wrists. They weren’t kidding when they said recovery wasn’t linear.

He wanted nothing more than to scream until he fell asleep crying and scratch his skin until he bled, but he did not want to end up back in the psych ward, he’s learned his lesson. It was all, ‘you can tell us anything,’ until he actually needed help. Instead of going to the hospital immediately he was moved into their room and lost all of his privacy. Then when he did what he warned them would happen, they acted like it wasn’t their fault. 

It’s been a week since he got released, and he had a shit ton of work to catch up on, including this stupid essay on a ‘real life Witch Trial.’ He chose the Lavender Scare, but he overestimated his ability to do it justice, now he just wanted to get words on paper and turn it in. He was always better at math and science than writing.

“Richard!” Dick shoved his face back in his pillow and groaned before rolling off his bed.

He closed his laptop and walked downstairs assuming he was going to be asked to do the dishes or something, only to be met with a random child. He paused for a few seconds trying to compute what he was seeing. He gave up and walked the rest of the way downstairs, still staring at the tiny child. He found it hard to be mad when he was faced with such a sad looking kid, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t simmering under the surface, he was a hair trigger away from screaming at someone.

“Are we babysitting?” More like is he babysitting, these guys couldn’t take care of a kid if their lives depended on it. His stress was already through the roof, he was under the impression he’d get at least a month to focus on himself, but count on the Miller’s to find some way to fuck everything up.

“No,” Mrs. Miller glared at him and Dick already wanted to punch something, “Timothy is your cousin, and we will be taking care of him from now on.” Ah, another orphan for them to screw over, you’d think one suicidal teenager would be enough for one family. Or formerly suicidal. Reformed suicidal?

“Go hang out with Richard while we get your room set up,” Mr. Miller said before sending a warning look toward Dick, and Dick glared right back. He could be mad if he wanted to. Screw autonomy I guess, Dick thought bitterly.

He closed his eyes and took a careful breath, he could be nice, he just needed to get into character.

He softened his expression and changed his body language from defensive to welcoming before he walked toward Tim and held out his hand for him to hold.

“Come on Tim, I have some stuff to play with in the game room.” Tim took Dick’s hand and nodded, he kept his head down as they walked up the stairs.

Dick led him to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table while he went to where they kept all the toys and craft supplies, all the baskets were labeled meticulously. Really, this was way too much for a kid who only had a single stuffed animal to play with to start with. Dick was more partial to physical activity and being outside. Not like the Millers really cared.

“You don’t have to be nice to me, I can just sit here.” Dick was slightly startled by the kids' voice, he seemed weirdly composed for a kid who was just recently orphaned.

He grabbed some crayons and construction paper (kids liked to draw, right?) and walked back and sat next to Tim, his own emotions were already put on the back burner.

“Don’t worry about it, I’d rather draw with you than work on my school work anyway.” That was a lie, not completely, he really didn’t want to do his makeup work, but he wanted to get it all done by the end of the night.

Tim got fidgety, “do you like Batman?”

Dick blinked, mildly surprised by the seemingly sudden change in conversation.

What was the right answer to this? Tim was fidgety - nervous, his eyes were wide - hopeful, “yeah, he’s pretty cool, but Superman’s cooler.”

Dick didn’t really know how to feel about Gotham’s so-called ‘protector.’ Where was Batman when the Millers locked him in a dark closet for saying he missed his parents? Where was he when Mr. Miller dragged him by his hair and threw him down the stairs for slamming his door? When he slapped him? Threatened to shave his head? Yeah, he knew it wasn’t fair to fault Batman for not saving him from his piece of shit legal guardians, but he would always be angry that he didn’t save his parents. 

Tim scrunched his nose, it was so adorable he wanted to squish his face.

“Batman is so much cooler than Superman, he throws knives and he knows MMA, you just haven’t seen him at his best, but I can show you-“ suddenly Tim looked like he was going to cry. 

“What’s up?”

“They didn’t let me take my camera with me.”

Dicks rage was back with a fiery vengeance only matched by the heat of the sun. They tried to do the same thing with him, but he was able to save his stuffed elephant and his clothes from their clutches. He still had his traditional clothes, but they no longer fit him and if he thought about it for too long, he’d start crying. 

He remembered seeing his mother in her traditional clothing and wishing he could wear them, so his mother made him his own. When he showed everyone his new clothes they gushed over him, telling him how adorable he was in his new outfit, and he would respond by saying his mom made it for him. Wearing it made him so unbelievably happy, so when she died he kept it with him in a bag he never parted with except to hide it when he was sleeping. He would say he was lucky he was able to keep his stuff away from the Millers, but it wasn’t luck, he fought tooth and nail to keep his stuff.

Over the years he kept wearing it, but only when he was alone. When he grew out of it he sobbed so hard he threw up. It felt like when his parents died all over again. But he could never grow out of the stuffed elephant his parents gave him, he slept with it every night, and he still did.

“We’re going to get your camera, I promise” Dick said with resolve and confidence he probably shouldn’t have. He couldn’t help it, he could physically feel how this random child was feeling, even though Tim was coping much better than Dick did.

Tim’s eyes lit up, and Dick immediately felt bad because he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to retrieve his camera. 

Tim must’ve been a mind reader, because as Dick thought that he said he had an idea.

“Batman’s my neighbor! He can help us get it.”

Dick couldn’t hide his disbelief, but he guessed he probably shouldn’t have expected a seven year old’s plan to be plausible. Tim huffed in annoyance.

“I’m not joking.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You don’t believe me,” Tim said and Dick had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that without hurting Tim’s feelings, “I’m gonna tell you something but you can’t tell anyone,” Tim held out his pinky and Dick sealed the promise.

 Tim pulled on his shoulder and cupped his hand around his ear and said the most preposterous sentence Dick had ever heard in his life.

“Batman is Bruce Wayne.”

Dick couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him, he immediately slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle it.

“I’m sorry, I believe you.”

Tim rolled his eyes and continued.

“I know where he’s going to be tonight,” Tim said, staring seriously at his blank sheet of paper.

Dick sighed internally. He wasn’t going to ask him how in the world he would know where Batman, the most elusive vigilante in existence, was going to be, because that would be pointless. Regardless of if Batman was going to be there or not, Tim probably needed a distraction anyways.

“Okay, okay, then we’re going to have to wait until the Millers are asleep and I have all the security measures on my window disabled, so you’re going to have to ask if you can sleep in my room because you don’t want to be alone or you’re scared or something, got it?” Dick asked and Tim nodded. He’d snuck out so many times, it was as easy as breathing. He could sneak Tim out of the house, if only to make sure Tim didn’t try to sneak out by himself. Dick would not let the Millers hurt another kid like they did him. 

“I’m going to act like I’m annoyed, I won’t actually be annoyed, and you’re gonna have to act extra sad” he added, he needed to sell this. The Millers didn’t think highly of him, but they knew he was good with people and he had a feeling they would be shoving the parenting onto him anyways.

They ended up having fun drawing and fleshing out their plan, Dick drew doodles and Tim drew Batman. Tim also drew a map of Gotham from memory and highlighted locations and put times next to them. They decided they would wait for Batman on a rooftop until he showed up at 1:30 am. Dick asked how they were going to get onto the roof and Tim sent him the most unimpressed look he’d ever seen from a kid and simply said ‘fire escape’ as if the obvious assumption would be to climb the rusty fire escapes that were one step away from collapsing. Needless to say, Dick would be finding another way to get onto the roof. He guessed it was good that Tim trusted him enough to insult him though.

Dick heard Mr. Miller’s footsteps come up the stairs and froze on reflex. He hated the automatic fear that was instilled in him over the years. He could fight back now, but he still felt like a helpless little kid.

“Alrighty Timothy, we got sheets on your bed and toiletries in the bathroom,” Mr. Miller said upon reaching the top of the stairs, Dick was pointedly looking down.

“Uhm,” Tim started and paused, “I don’t want to be alone, can I stay with Richard?” Dick internally cringed at the name coming out of a person non-Miller-aligned. Right, he forgot to update him on his name.

“Of course, anything you want,” Mr. Miller said without missing a beat and Dicks head snapped up to meet Mr. Miller’s face, wearing an obvious expression of disbelief and betrayal and Mr. Miller predictably gave him a warning look that had him shut his mouth and glare in the other direction. He wished he could say he was faking the effect that look had on him. 

Dick tried not to be bitter at the obvious disparity between how Dick was treated when he was a kid and how Tim was being treated. It was good that Tim was being treated like a human being and not like a glorified pet.

Dick closed his eyes and visibly relaxed when he heard Mr. Miller descended the stairs. He looked up and tried to calm himself down, but he flinched violently when a hand touched his shoulder. Right, Tim was still there. He sighed and laughed to try and cover it up.

“Sorry, you just surprised me.”

Tim gave him a quizzical look, but didn’t pry.

Dick got up by doing a backwards roll into a handstand and walked forward on his hands for a couple steps. Tim giggled and Dick smirked and bent backwards till his feet met the floor and finally stood on his feet and did a bow.

“Thank you, thank you, hold the applause,” he joked. For what it was worth, the Millers did allow him to keep up with his acrobatics in the form of gymnastics. Even if he knew it was more about their public image than his need to be active, a win's a win, he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. He liked looking in the mirror and seeing a little bit of his father as he got older.

He held out his hand for Tim to grab again and he took it immediately, which surprised Dick. Kids Tim’s age would usually get annoyed and exclaim that they ‘aren’t a baby.’ Tim however, stuck to his side as they walked to his room.

Dick contemplated letting go of Tim’s hand, but decided to take a gamble and motioned to pick Tim up and Tim took him up on his offer. He knew his hunch was right immediately, because he immediately melted and laid his head in the crook of him neck. Tim was kind of choking him, but Dick wasn’t going to tell the touch-starved child, he could survive a couple more feet.

He shifted Tim onto his hip to open his door and deposited him onto the couch and Dick sat on the coffee table in front of it, they had entirely too many coffee tables, as if Dick had more than one friend. Unsurprisingly it was hard to make friends when you’re two grades above his peers. Gotham Academy didn’t usually allow skipping grades, but Gotham Academy’s rules didn’t exist for the rich, only the scholarship kids. It was only by the grace of God that Barbara sat next to him in Algebra one.

“So, what do you want to do to kill time? I’ve only got a laptop so our options are kinda limited.” Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of the laptop, so Dick went to retrieve it from his bed. He sat next to Tim and opened it, noting that it was currently 11:30, which means they have an hour and a half to kill. He put in the passcode and handed it to Tim.

“My parents took away my laptop a couple months ago,” Tim said casually, “can I check all of my accounts?” Tim looked up at Dick hopefully. Dick was hesitant to say yes, because as much as he guessed that Tim’s parents were probably neglectful at best, he wondered if Tim should have had free access to the internet in the first place. But Tim wasn’t hiding the screen and was under his supervision…

“Okay, go ahead, can I watch?” Tim gave a little nod as he went straight to his gmail, which was a tasteful [email protected] . What kind of kid had a respectable first email? 

Dick didn’t see anything inappropriate, but this kid really was obsessed with Batman. 

“I think I can access my computer from your laptop, can I? It won’t effect any of your data.” Dick shrugged, but suddenly remembered that he didn’t save his work in progress essay.

“In a sec, I have to save my essay.” He didn’t see any reason to hide it, even if Tim was homophobic, he doubted he knew what the Lavender Scare was, Dick only knew about it from a book he got from the school library. Which was both a realistic fiction book and centered around lesbian characters. Dick wasn’t much for reading, but Babs recommended it to him, and it was so good he read the whole thing in one sitting. However it seemed Tim was full of surprises.

“You’re writing about the Lavender Scare? I can help! I did a lot of research on it a couple months ago. Can I read it?” Tim asked, and Dick was very much inclined to say no. He was battling self-harm urges the entire time he was writing, so he didn’t even remember what he wrote, but Tim was staring at him with wide hopeful and excited eyes. One day he’d grow an immunity to Tim, but for now, there wasn’t any harm in just letting him read it. 

“Sure, go for it.” One day he’d have immunity. But that day was not today.

As Tim was reading it, he had an expression of pure concentration, then frustration.

“This is more… I don’t think you need more research.” Tim sheepishly gave Dick his laptop back.

“Nope, but I am stuck.” 

“Well… I think you just need a clearer thesis statement. I think that would help a little, and maybe an outline could help too.”

“Thank you, that’s very helpful, you’re a pretty smart kid. How old are you?”

“I’m ten,” Tim said, and Dick’s brain took a moment to reboot. Tim was way too small to be a ten year old, were his parents not feeding him or something? Is he ill? If he had some sort of recurring illness, Dick had his work cut out for him. He would have to learn how to drive ASAP, and learn how to make appointments, and he would have to get a hold of their insurance and money.

But there was no point in pointing it out and making him feel conscious of it. He’d overhear something about it when he was eavesdropping at some point. 

“Cool, so how were you planning on getting access to your laptops data?”

“This is an iMac, right? I’m just gonna sign into my iCloud.”

“In that case, let me back everything up, or you can yourself if you want.”

That’s basically how they spent most of their evening. When the alarm Dick set on his watch went off at 12:45, they were playing Fireboy and Watergirl.

“Okay, do you have everything you need?” Dick asked, all they really needed were shoes and jackets and they hadn’t changed out of their clothes they were wearing earlier, which meant Dick had to change out of his sweats and put on his shoes. He would have worn his sweatpants, but that pair was the pair he only wore at home and he would really rather they stay clean. 

Dick opened the window and stepped onto the lattice and climbed down before he beckoned Tim to do the same. Dick kept his arms out in case Tim fell, but Tim made it without incident. The next step is what had Dick reevaluating the doability of this plan. He’d usually take a running start toward the fence to get a leg up, grab the top of the fence and drop into a roll on the other side.

While Dick was hesitating Tim was already climbing the fence and for the life of him, Dick could not understand how he did it. Dick snapped out of it, he figured he should probably be on the other side to catch him, so he hopped the fence before Tim reached the top.

Tim landed no problem and took charge, he grabbed Dicks hand and dragged him along. Tim was fast, not faster than Dick could keep up with, but fast nonetheless. Sometimes he forgot how athletic children are.

As soon as they neared Park Row, or more commonly known as Crime alley, Tim scaled a building with practiced ease, and Dick was getting more concerned by the minute. How did his parents not notice him go out into the most dangerous parts of Gotham as he searched for danger. They hopped a few rooftops before they arrived at the destination. It was 1:20.

“I wish I had my camera,” Tim said looking upon the cityscape, Dick didn’t see the appeal.

“Well, if you’re correct, you’ll get it soon.” Dick had absolutely no faith in Tim’s theory, so they agreed if Batman wasn’t there by 1:35 they would go back to the house and Dick brought cards to pass the time.

It was hot and humid, the worst combo in Dicks opinion and that sentiment is shared by most Gothamites. He was already sweating. 

“So the only game I know is go fish if you wanna play cards,” Dick offered, but Tim shook his head and sat on the edge of the building, which made Dick’s anxiety shoot through the roof. Dick sat next to him.

“You know, I feel like I should feel sad that my parents are gone, but I just don’t,” Tim put his head on Dicks shoulder, “they were gone most of the time anyway so it doesn’t feel like much of a difference.” Dick nodded to show that he was listening.

“And they weren’t very nice when they were there and that’s putting it lightly. Is it bad that I’m relieved they’re gone?” Dick thought for a moment.

“No, I don’t think so. If the Millers died I’d be relieved too.” Tim stiffened and Dick immediately knew he said something wrong. Tim lifted his head to look at Dick and Dick looked back.

“So, are the Millers…” Tim didn’t ask, but Dick could fill in the blanks. He sighed and turned to face the city.

“Yeah… don’t worry about it though, they won’t hurt you.” Dick wouldn’t let them.

“But, they’ll hurt you?” Dick nodded.

“Don’t feel bad about it, I’m used to it.” Tim laid his head back on his shoulder and Dick turned to look at his face.

“I’m gonna feel bad about it,

“you know, you were the first person to ever hug me?”

“Today?” Dick could feel him shake his head.

“The day your parents…

you said you’d do a trick just for me

you never got to.” Dick could feel pressure build in his temples, he looked away from Tim before the tears started to fall.

Because he remembered that kid. He was so small and he looked so excited, so he dragged his parents over and the rest is history. He wished he could remember.

“My parents never hugged me, 

“you know, sometimes I wished I never got that hug, 

I didn’t notice that my parents didn’t hug me until I knew what it felt like.”

Dick put his arm around Tim’s back and hugged him firmly before he looked to face Tim.

“Thank you for trusting me with that, you’re a strong kid you know, the strongest kid I’ve ever met.” Tim smiled, laughing a bit through tears. 

Dick checked his watch, it was 1:30.

“Come on, let's get up,” he said and got up carefully, keeping a hand on Tims arm. He walked away from the ledge and pinched Tims nose making him laugh more.

It wasn’t long before the Dark Knight himself appeared before them. Dick was stunned, more surprised by the fact that Tim was right than the shadowy figure standing in front of him.

“You boys shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous.” Dick rolled his eyes, he wasn’t wrong, but obviously an area dubbed ‘Crime Alley,’ is going to be dangerous. Tim took a step forward to stand right in front of Batman and Batman knelt to be on his level.

“We need help.” Tim said simply.

“Tim’s parents died and his foster placement didn’t let him keep his camera.” Dick tried to keep his tone neutral, but he was sure some of his bitterness seeped into his voice. After eight years of praying to be saved, Gothams ‘savior’ only then stood before him.

“And our foster parents are abusive,” Tim said, surprising Dick. There was no way to prove it, so there was no point in getting into a whole legal mess and going back into the system. He immediately tried to do damage control.

“No, they’re not, I must’ve scared him with something I said.” Dick wondered if that was convincing enough. He was pretty good at keeping panic out of his voice, if he wasn’t he’d probably be dead by now.

Tim looked at him, confused.

Dick gave him a pointed look, hopefully conveying ‘NOT SAFE, ABORT.’

“Hn. I don’t see how I would be able to help you get your camera.” Bruce stood up and started walking away, but Tim grabbed onto his cape.

“I’m your neighbor! I know who you are, please, I need my camera.” Tim said with a desperation only a person so close yet so far could have.

Batman took a step forward and Dick stepped between him and Tim. It was clear that conversation with Tim was off limits now.

“If you don’t help us, someone’s gonna find Tim’s camera and you can say goodbye to your secret identity.” Dick was almost one hundred percent sure that Tim was never intending to blackmail Batman, but this technically wasn’t blackmail. It was more like… a warning.

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What are your names?”

“Dick Grayson and Tim Drake.” technically it was Richard Miller, but he’d die before he introduced himself with that name. He would never forgive the Millers for stripping him of his identity.

“I’m sorry, you seriously go by Dick? Of your own free will?” Another voice said before he went to stand next to Batman. Dick crossed his arms and gave him an unamused stare.

“Yes.” He already wanted to strangle him, as if he didn’t get enough of that in middle school. And in high school. And probably for the rest of his life. He would never go by anything other than Dick, he was going to go by the name his parents called him till the day he died. 

“That was rude, apologize.” Somehow he wasn’t expecting the dad voice to come from Batman, but it did kind of make sense. 

“My bad, nice to meet ya. I’m Batboy… the name is a work in progress,” he added hurriedly before turning to Batman, “are we taking them with us?”

“That remains to be seen,” Batman said before turning toward the two, “how would you like to get a ride in the batmobile?”

Dick could feel Tim tugging on his shirt, he turned to look at him, and goddammit, one of these days he was going to be able to say no to Tim. 

“Well how else are we gonna get your camera?” Dick smiled at him, and Tim started jumping and flapping his hands. Once he noticed Dick was looking though, he immediately stopped moving. He was going to revisit that. He held out his hand for Tim to grab and motioned his head toward the fire escape, more for Batman and whoever his new sidekick was.

Batman just shook his head, “not safe, we’ll grapple down. Batboy will take Tim and I’ll take you.” Dick glared at ‘Batboy.’ He didn’t trust him at all, but Tim let go of his hand.

“Don’t worry, he’s trained.” Dick scoffed and crossed his arms again, as if that made it better. A child carrying a child didn’t seem safe. Batman sighed.

“We’ll go first, we’ll be their safety net,” Batman suggested, and Dick clutched his arms tighter, if his parents had a safety net…

He could hear their bones shattering before the screaming started-

No.

Not the time.

NOT the time.

Dick took a measured breath in and out.

“Okay.” Dick said begrudgingly, if only to get his mind off of his parent’s death. 

“I’m going to hold you by the waist, I need you to hold onto my neck, okay?” Dick took a shaky breath in and out.

“Okay.”

Dick immediately shut his eyes and held on tighter when he felt his feet leave the ground, “it’s okay you can open your eyes now.” Dick flushed, he almost had a panic attack, maybe he is just over dramatic. He let go of Batman immediately a pushed himself away from him. He went to hug himself but a stinging pain on his arm stopped him. One of his cuts reopened. Great.

Before he knew it Tim was tugging on his arm, thank god the cut was on his right arm. Dick sighed and smiled before he took his hand. 

The other kid was walking on the other side of him, why he had to be so close, Dick didn’t know.

“I like the hair,” Dick took a subtle breath to compose himself. This was a kid, he didn’t mean it like Mr. Miller did. 

“Thanks,” Dick replied, very carefully trying not to hate him immediately.

“So… since you already know our identities, I figure it’s okay to say this,” Jason whispered and Dick dreaded what he was going to say next, “I know you, from school.” Dick froze for a split second, blink and you’ll miss it slip up.

That made sense. If Batman was Bruce Wayne, that means Batboy would be Jason Todd. But that also means he’s heard all the rumors that went around while he was in the psych ward. He didn’t know who found out he went to the mental hospital, but from what he’d heard, it was pretty big news.

It also meant he knew his school persona, which was the most exhausting behind his Gala persona. Well, he guessed it didn’t matter, not like they’d encounter each other at school. He didn’t reply. 

“Let me treat your arm, I won’t tell anyone,” Jason whispered even quieter and Dick held his arm closer to his body in reflex. 

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he said smiling.

Jason looked like he wanted to argue, but wisely decided against it.

Tim suddenly pulled on his arm and Dick almost tripped.

“It’s so shiny,” Tim said with stars in his eyes, and there it was. The batmobile in all its glory. Dick had to admit, it was pretty cool.

Jason went ahead of them to open the door to the backseat, “your chariot awaits.” That was quite possibly the dorkiest thing Dick’s ever heard, it was almost endearing.

Tim pulled him again before climbing into the backseat, looking absolutely starstruck and Dick followed.

He assumed Jason would want to sit in the passenger seat, but he got in after Dick and Dick was left sitting in the middle of two children.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves kids, but prolonged exposure can lead to irritability, and no one wants that.

The lights turned off as Batman began driving. Dick looked at his watch. They needed to be back by 5 am at the latest, the Millers didn’t usually check on him to make sure he was awake, but they might want to check on Tim, and he needed time to get Tim into pajamas and himself into his uniform.

“What do you do for fun?” Jason asked, Dick couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or just wanted an opportunity to talk about himself. Dick had a feeling it was the latter.

“I’m a gymnast, and I like swimming and martial arts.” Dick had to learn self defense because he was being bullied and he quickly learned that no one was going to do a thing about it, but what was borne of necessity turned into a hobby. He took up drawing in the psych ward, cause there wasn’t much else to do besides watch TV and talk. They would play just dance on youtube every night though, so that was fun. Dick actually liked his time at the mental hospital, he needed a break from the Millers to want to be alive again.

“Right, you’re on the gymnastics team.” Jason looked away before awkwardly turning back, Dick decided he would sacrifice his peace.

“What do you like to do?”

“Obviously I like fighting crime and all that, but I like reading, I also like writing, but I only write poetry,” Jason said, though he looked like he was cursing himself internally. Dick remembered what that was like, unfortunately the older cooler kid he wanted to impress was nothing like Dick. Just thinking about it made him cringe. Dick didn’t think he was cool by any means, but neither was Catalina, he knew the appeal was more of knowing a person with more life experience. He used to act that way toward his older cousins too, but they made fun of him for it behind his back. He makes sure he finds a corner and sticks to it at family gatherings now.

“Cool,” Dick looked over at Tim and saw he was half asleep on the window, so he put Tim’s head on his shoulder, “what do you like to read?”

“I like reading plays, mostly Shakespeare, and classics, but I also read all kinds of genres.” 

“I’m not much for reading, but I read this book that my friend Babs recommended and I really liked it, it’s called Pulp by Robin Talley if you’re interested.” Jason was definitely interested, and probably ecstatic that Dick was talking about something he liked to do.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s been a while since I read it,” Dick tried digging in his mind for some sort of synopsis “well, the main character has trouble with her college apps, her relationship, and home life, and she becomes obsessed with this one pulp fiction writer from the fifties, and her story parallels with the author of that book’s life. I’m pretty sure I butchered it, but that’s what I remember.”

“That sounds cool, I’ll check it out, is it in the school library?”

“Yep, that’s where I got it from. Let me know what you think of it when you’re finished.”

They entered some sort of tunnel and the lights turned on, motion sensors then.

“Tim, wake up,” Dick whispered and shook him a little, but he just buried himself deeper into his neck. Dick sighed and somehow managed to get out of the car, Tim in tow.

“I see we have guests,” an old British man stood, his hands behind his back, with perfect posture, “come along then, what shall I call you two?” He asked as he ushered them toward what looked like a medical cot. Dick had a feeling Tim wouldn’t appreciate being separated from him, so he just kept him in his lap. Dick was never gonna be able to get rid of him, was he? Not that he’d want to anyway. 

“I’m Dick, he’s Tim,” Dick said and suddenly he was exhausted.

“Alright, are there any injuries I should be aware of?”

Dick debated whether or not he could tell him about the cuts. He probably wouldn’t see him again after this and it didn’t seem like he was a mandated reporter, how would he explain Dick being wherever they were anyways?

He was getting sick of the stinging pain. He nervously looked around to see if anyone was watching before rolling up his sleeve, consciously not looking at his reaction.

“One of them reopened,” Dick explained needlessly, trying very hard to stay still under his scrutiny.

“Hmm, is your other arm in a similar state?” Dick nodded and chanced a look at the man’s face. He looked somewhat heartbroken, he was hiding it well, but Dick could see it. He didn’t see why though, he didn’t know him and it’s not like someone else was doing this to him.

Apparently, the cut that reopened needed stitches. He expected the treatment to stop after the stitches, but the man he came to know as Alfred treated the rest of his cuts as well. All the while Tim was still sleeping, the kid must’ve been exhausted. Dick checked his phone, it was 2:30

His legs were falling asleep, so he shifted Tim to lay down on the bed, but he wouldn’t let go of his neck so he just sighed and laid down with him. He was beginning to think that this whole thing was a huge waste of time. He didn’t even know where Batman and his protege disappeared to. If they didn’t get the camera, all they would get out of this was a screaming match which would eventually lead to getting dragged and thrown outside. If he was lucky.

In retrospect, taking a newly orphaned kid into the most dangerous part of the city and hopping buildings wasn’t the most responsible thing he could have done. He could’ve been normal and snuck out by himself to get the camera, but that would mean leaving Tim alone. 

He honestly didn’t even know why he got so attached to Tim so fast. In his head Tim was like a baby duckling that imprinted on him, but maybe Dick needed Tim as much as Tim needed him.

Now that he was thinking about it, he hadn’t thought of cutting since Tim’s been here. Which admittedly wasn’t really impressive to anyone but himself. Ever since he was released from the hospital and back in the Millers custody, he felt like he wanted to cut all the time. He could hardly function with how bad it was. Well, that’s a lie, but it was always in the back of his mind. 

He had a two day grace period before the Millers were back on their bullshit. He went downstairs to get a glass of water, he didn’t even know they left a knife on the kitchen counter, but according to Mr. Miller, he was being a ‘selfish piece of shit,’ and he was undeserving of all things they gave him because obviously why else would Dick be in front of a knife besides cutting himself? 

Dick could hear the car come back (when did they leave?) and his eyes shot open and he immediately sat up, jostling Tim in the process. Tim woke up slowly, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

Alfred was gone, and he could hear his voice carry through the curtain cutting them off from the rest of the cave.

“They’re sleeping, poor lads.”

“We got the little dude’s camera.”

“We need to get them home.”

“Normally I would agree, but I have reason to believe they won’t be safe there.”

“Why?”

“Tim’s foster parents and Dicks adoptive parents have five opened and closed child abuse cases, and they’re all rather shifty.”

Dick could see where this was going, so he decided to make himself known.

“We’re not going back in the system,” he said, opening the curtain and walking toward the huge computer they were all talking in front of while Tim trailed behind him.

The foster care system was shady everywhere in America, but in Gotham it was five times worse. Believe it or not, Dick got insanely lucky. The Millers were pieces of shit, but they weren’t pedophiles or human traffickers.

“I’d strangle Batman in his sleep before letting you guys go into the system.”

“Mr. Wayne, thank you for your hospitality, but we should get home.”

Everyone turned to Tim, who switched from normal kid obsessed with Batman to a perfectly behaved heir. The implications were not helping their case.

Batman sighed and pulled back his cowl, and holy shit, it was actually Bruce Wayne. Not that he didn’t have faith in Tim’s theory, it was just so absurd.

“Jason, we can’t kidnap them.” 

“Why not? You basically kidnapped me.” It looked like Jason brought that up often, because both Bruce and Alfred looked exasperated. 

“That was different, you didn’t have a legal guardian.”

Dick sighed, it didn’t look like any of them were willing to just drive them home, even Bruce didn’t look like he wanted to for all he was saying. 

“I ran away for a week and they didn’t report me missing. They’re probably counting on me to get Tim to school anyways, so you have a day,” Dick said, making things difficult wouldn't get them anywhere, and this way they could figure out a solution without the guilt that comes with leaving a kid with their abusive parents, “ only a day.”

Chapter Text

Bruce tried to do his due diligence immediately after Alfred led them upstairs, but the Millers knew how to cover their tracks. All evidence was blamed on Dicks gymnastics and apparent penchant for acrobatics around the house, and courts wouldn’t take away custody if he wasn’t in danger…

But he was, wasn’t he? From Dicks medical files it looked like he had recently attempted suicide, but none of the notes were really helpful, it was basically just a whole lot of dancing around the fact that they couldn’t get an answer out of Dick about why he attempted, which extended his stay, but they ultimately let him go because he was ‘no longer at risk’. 

Bruce had a theory on why. If he could get Dick to testify or write a testimony, maybe he could pull it off. However, ‘maybe’ wasn’t good enough for this, he needed a sure way. If he failed on the legal route, that left Dick and Tim in a really tough situation. 

“Tea, Master Bruce?” Bruce nodded.

—-

Alfred set up two rooms for them, but Tim had a nightmare in the middle of the night and ended up in Dick’s room anyways.

He came into the room but he just sat on the floor, so Dick slid off the bed to lay on the floor. 

“Why are we on the floor?” Dick whispered, Tim’s eyes were wide as saucers, as if he’d been caught red handed at the scene of a homicide.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“In solidarity, obviously.” Dick said. They had the stare down of the century, silence dragging in the darkness of the room only lit by the moonlight. Tim looked away, fiddling with his fingers. As the silence became deafening, he wondered if they would just sit here for the rest of the night. Dick didn’t mind, but he’d prefer if Tim got some sleep. Tim looked back at his face and Dick perked up attentively before Tim once again looked away. 

“I had a bad dream, I got scared, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Tim wringed his hands together. 

“Were you planning on sitting there the entire night?” Dick asked and Tim just shrugged, “come up on the bed, you can’t sleep on the floor,” both Dick and Tim stood at the same time. Tim shuffled over and picked the side of the bed furthest from the door. 

Tim kept his distance at first, but when he fell asleep he ended up cuddling Dick which coincidentally helped him fall asleep despite the change in setting and lack of familiarity with his surroundings.

Dick wondered if the kid was always this trusting toward every person who was nice to him. He really hoped he wasn’t.

Tim also kept him up, unsurprisingly having a tiny furnace attached to his side wasn’t entirely comfortable. He carefully removed Tim from himself, replacing his body with one of the four pillows on the bed. He got up to turn on the fan and tried to fall back to sleep to no avail.

He checked the clock that hung on the wall across from the bed. It was 6:00.

He laid awake, listened to the ticking of the clock in a strange stillness and watched dust particles dance through the sliver of light that was beginning to appear as the sun rose. He could count on one hand how often he felt that much peace in stillness. Before this, the only stillness in his life was sleep. When he was taken in by the Millers, all stillness was an illusion, there was always something brewing and the air was always thick with tension. But in this room, the stillness was a break from everything, and he supposed that’s what that was. He got one day of reprieve before he had to go on being Richard Miller.

Two more years, he had to remind himself, just two more years, and I can change my name back to Grayson.

College was his only hope for escape. He just had to get into a good college, and he’d be able to leave, but the truth was that he didn’t really want to go to college. He never liked school much, sure he was a mathlete, but gymnastics was what made school tolerable. 

Sometimes he liked to daydream about his ideal life after high school. He’d get emancipated, move out and get an apartment in Bludhaven or something, he’d get a job teaching gymnastics, he’d get his name changed, and he would never have to worry about the Millers ever again. 

He knew it was unrealistic, the Millers would never agree to emancipate him. 

The door opened, bringing him back to the present. When he looked at the clock, two hours had already passed. He sighed and flopped his head back on the pillow.

“Alfred’s making pancakes, he told me to come get you,” Jason said. He was still in his pajamas and looked like he was dead on his feet.

“We’re coming, shouldn’t you be leaving for school or something?” Dick sat up and shook Tim awake. 

“Bruce said I could skip,” he said in a voice that indicated he very much did not, but Dick could care less, he’d be a hypocrite to say anything about it.

Tim got off the bed when Dick told him to brush his teeth, Dick just hoped Alfred kept the bathroom stocked. Dick did his usual morning stretching. He skipped exercising, he just wasn’t in the mood, and stretching was always more fun than maintenance exercise. 

Jason didn’t leave the room, he just stared while Dick did his stretching. Dick stared right back, he was surprised to find that exhaustion

“You’re like a human pretzel.” Dick huffed out a laugh and got himself sitting criss-cross.

“You wanna stretch with me?” Dick asked, despite already being done with his routine. Despite popular stereotypes, Dick was very much a people person, he loved talking to people, helping people out. Plus, moving your body was ten times better than caffeine, and Jason looked like he was about to fall back asleep at any moment.

Jason’s eyes widened in mild horror, and Dick had to remind himself that he was leaps and bounds more flexible than the average person.

“I’m not gonna break you,” Dick said, amusement obvious in his voice. Jason didn’t look totally convinced. 

Dick went through some of his favorite stretches, before the taste of his breath became unbearable. He got up to brush his teeth and saw that Tim was behind them learning along with Jason. Jason was having a little bit of trouble, but Tim, having the athleticism of a kid, was doing everything nearly perfectly. Despite the struggle, Jason looked like he was having fun, and both of them looked more awake. Dick snorted and ruffled their hair on his way to the bathroom. When he got out of the bathroom they were both gone, so he tried to make his way to the kitchen on his own.

The hallways felt warm and lived in, the plethora of pictures of young Bruce Wayne scattered among the gallery of Jason made the walls seem like a portal of memories. Dick sat against a wall, he put his head in his hands and sighed. By all accounts, this was actually crazy. 

He would have thought he was dreaming if it weren’t for the stinging stitches on his arm. 

“Did ya get lost or something?” Dick’s head shot up to meet Jason’s gaze, Dick put on a  tired smile.

“Nah, just tired.” 

“Yeah, that’s real convincing,” Jason rolled his eyes, rude, “c’mon.”

Jason dragged Dick to the breakfast table where everyone was already eating. 

“Alfred’s pancakes are the best, I swear I've never had food as good as Alfred’s.” Alfred himself looked pleased with himself.

“You flatter me, my boy,” He said, affectionately putting his hand on his head when he sat at the table. The simple display of affection made Dick’s heart hurt with want. It wasn’t just the action, but how comfortable Jason was with it. Dick knew for a fact that no matter how much he wanted it, he would flinch.

Tim sat next to Jason and Dick sat across from them.

Dick was sure Alfred’s pancakes were as good as Jason claimed, but he wasn’t hungry. Alfred went to put a plate in front of Dick, but he put a hand up and smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry, I’m not really hungry, thank you.” He knew it was important for him to eat, but he liked to have control over what he put in his body. The only exception being cereal. Cereal was always safe.

Alfred frowned in disapproval, and Dick immediately felt guilty. 

Obviously if someone offered you their hard work to consume, it’s hurtful to deny. He was conflicted. 

On one hand, he did really feel bad, but on the other, he knew he couldn’t force himself to eat what Alfred made with how much anxiety it would induce.

Sensing his dilemma, he took back the plate.

“I’m afraid not eating isn’t an option, perhaps you’d like to take your breakfast in the kitchen with me?” Alfred lowered his voice in a way that wasn’t obvious. Dick decided Alfred was a saint.

Dick wordlessly got up and followed Alfred to the kitchen. 

The morning was bright and the kitchen had obviously been remodeled to accommodate children. Why? Dick didn’t have a clue, there was only one child here. But it was nice. You could see out the window and there was a bench beneath it. The cushion, while obviously cared for, was well worn and the sheer curtains splashed the room with color.

The kitchen was a far cry from the Millers’. Their kitchen was meant for the display of comfort, not actual comfort.

“Master Bruce was quite fond of that window,” Mr. Pennyworth interrupted his thoughts, “he used to stare at the garden as I prepared meals.”

“It looks cozy,” and warm, Dick didn’t say. He was actually freezing, which was weird considering it’s summer.

“Yes. Feel free to sit, Master Jason makes the most use of it these days,” Alfred got out a teacup, most likely their nice china, and a mug, “tea or cocoa.”

Screw it, it’s one day.

“Cocoa sounds good.”

Alfred filled a pot with water and put it on the stove. He didn’t force small talk as most older people tend to, so Dick sat at the window, and he was right. It was blissfully warm.

The garden was clearly a hobby, as no billionaire needs to save money on produce, and an impressive one at that. Most gardens either had flowers or vegetables, this one had both and it looked good. Very aesthetically pleasing.

He looked further and saw that the garden was sectioned off from what was presumably the entertainment side of the backyard. How had Mr. Wayne found a way for a house so big to be so cozy. Well, he supposed he couldn’t call it a house, it was a manor. On an estate. Which means there are multiple buildings/wings(?).

He lived in a mansion that had at least ten rooms, but it didn’t even come close to Wayne Manor.

For a moment he allowed himself to imagine living here. He would have at least one competent paternal figure here, and brothers. Maybe the air wouldn’t be so still with five people living there. Maybe he would be able to hear signs of life beyond his own breathing. Maybe someone would be able to hear him screaming awake from his nightmares.

It was a nice dream.

But totally unrealistic and impossible.

“Dear boy, are you quite all right?” He was once again snapped out of his thoughts. He nodded.

A hot mug of cocoa was carefully placed into his hands. Alfred went and stood at the counter instead of sitting next to him. Which was only natural, Dick was just delusional.

“I have scones if you’d like one.”

Dick shook his head with a small smile to indicate he was fine. He took a sip of his drink and he was immediately stunned. It was heavenly, it was sweet and rich and had a little spice to balance out the sweet.

“Would you like me to make something else for you?”

Dick felt like a spoiled little child, being picky in someone else’s home when a kind man was offering him food. His ears went hot with embarrassment.

“I’m okay, really,” Dick said fervently.

“It really is no trouble at all,” Alfred said. He was already putting on an apron. Dick needed to fix this.

“Do you have cereal?” Dick asked hopefully. Alfred frowned.

“We do indeed,” he said while walking dutifully toward the pantry, “however, we only have ‘Golden Crisps.’” Alfred did not like cereal, noted.

“That’s okay,” Dick said, getting up, fully intending to pour his own bowl of cereal, but Alfred was already doing it for him, so Dick just thanked him.

Dick felt kind of helpless getting everything done for him. It was awkward.

Alfred put the bowl in front of him with a spoon, and Dick dictated to stand with him while he ate.

“Please, sit and eat,” Alfred said.

Dick shook his head, “I like standing.” 

Alfred tsk’ed and lead Dick gently back to the bench before bringing out a small table from the pantry. Dick wanted to help, but he felt like Alfred wouldn’t accept it anyway.

“Right then, I shall sit with you.” Alfred sat down next to him. Dick put his mug and bowl down and began eating while Alfred brought a scone and butter to the table.

They ate in a welcomed silence, and he felt peaceful. He couldn’t be at peace in his home, wouldn’t, because there was always something. Something he did wrong, something an employee did wrong, something a waitress did wrong, and in all cases Dick was bearing the brunt of Mr. Miller’s rage. It all led back to Dick getting yelled at somehow.

“You have a nice home,” Dick said to break the silence, worried that Alfred would bore of sitting and go eat somewhere else.

“Indeed, a bit big for three.”

“You make it work though, my house is much smaller and it feels ginormous.”

The same expression that adorned his face the previous night dawned on his features once again.

“That’s quite unfortunate.” 

Moment ruined, great work Dick.