Chapter Ten

Harley let out a low whistle, shifting her head around to peer at the hole in Nightwing's hand, “That's a nasty little thing, ain't it? Ya say little ol’ Jervis do it to you?”

Dick wryly smirked at her beneath his mask, “Yep. Mostly, at least. It was my bright idea to take the shot in my hand though. Was trying to catch it for the, uh, the other Bats there.”

She leant back into her seat and stared at him a moment, one eyebrow raised, “Ya…took it for the others?”

“Well, yeah” He said, not understanding.

“But…” she tilted her head to one side, a touch of a grimace coming to her features, “...I thought they treated ya like shit, yeah? Heck, what you mentioned about that Red Hood fella-”

She cut herself off and frowned a little, looking concerned, “Birdbrain, why would ya help someone treats you like shit?”

Nightwing felt his features tighten slightly, holding the smile in place. It was a dick move, he knew it, but he had to try, “Harls, you've not been a part of a team like that, it's a part of the-”

“Don't pull that shit with me Nightwing.” She snapped, “I've fuckin' lived that crap line about loyalty and shit. Nah, that don't hold up. Someone treats you like shit, you don't put up with it, or you end up like me.”

He felt the shame flood his cheeks, and he dipped his head, letting the smile drop. With a sigh, he said, “Yeah, no, you're right. That was… that wasn't cool of me. I'm sorry Harley. You deserve better from me.”

She gave a little harrumph, and let it go, but Dick couldn’t let go of the guilt he felt. Her eyes watched him with worry from then, and he hated it, and loved it, and hated himself for loving it when he didn’t deserve that worry. Silence stuck with them for awhile as they moved through the night, the two only speaking for the sake of whatever crime they were interrupting.

It was almost two hours before he stopped them on a certain rooftop with a soft, “Harley, wait.”

She stopped, looking around for whatever he had seen. When seconds passed into minutes, she hesitantly asked, “Nightie? What’s…?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and dropped to the rooftop surface cross-legged with his hands on his thighs. He looked up at her and nodded to the ground opposite him. As she moved over and sat, her eyes glanced around once more and widened slightly in understanding.

A small, but bright, smile pointed in his direction, and humour danced in her eyes. “How can Doctor Quinzel help tonight?”

Despite himself, he felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a moment. Then what he was trying to do hit him again, and the hint of a smile vanished.

Minutes passed and the silence was swallowed by the nighttime noise of the city.

Eventually, the words came, “Robin was the youngest sidekick, one of the first. You probably remember that. A stupid crazy kid in spandex shorts that beat the odds at every turn and proved that even children could be heroes. I paved the way for all the others who had the ability, but didn’t have the chance to prove it.”

The words had started halting and cautious. Now, they were confident as he practically spat, “Because of me, people thought it was a good idea to make children into soldiers and shove them onto the front lines of a war they couldn’t begin to understand. Do you know how many child heroes have died since then? I used to. Do you know how many Robins have died?”

Her blue eyes watched, and she didn’t speak, merely listened as he spoke. It was good, Dick wasn’t sure if he would have been able to get through it otherwise.

“All of them. Every single person- every kid that’s actually become Robin has died. Joker and his crowbar was just the one that people know about, the one that happened when he was Robin.” He could feel moisture in his eyes and blinked it back, before it could damage the glue. Anger pulled forwards instead, “Every fucking one of my family, of the people I love? They wore the name my- They wore Robin, and because of what came with that, they died.”

He worked his jaw, and swallowed the emotion down. Time passed again, whilst he got ahold of himself.

“Do you want to know a secret? Something only one other person knows, and even then they don’t know it all?”

She raised an eyebrow, and narrowed her eyes. Slowly, she responded, “If…If ya wanna share, ‘ah wanna hear. But that don’t mean-”

“People always wonder why I took the name Robin to be Batman’s sidekick. Doesn’t make any sense, right?” He interrupted her, pushing himself forward before she could tell him not to. “You would have thought I’d become Batboy, or something. But no, Robin. Why?”

He looked up and this time, he met her eyes as he spoke, “People think that it came to symbolise hope because of Robin, but that’s not true. No, Robin means love, and family. Always has. My mama- Mom. Even as a kid, I bounced off the walls. Never did like bedtime then, but she used to hold me and tell me ‘Shhh, sleep now, my little robin. We can fly again tomorrow, I promise.’. She would smile, and- and she would rub her thumb just underneath my ear as I fell asleep.”

He shot up and started walking, unable to take it anymore, letting the motion distract as he pulled the masks back on, “I only ever told D- ahem, the current Robin that. Or, I told him that it meant family and love. Not the rest. None of the others asked, so I figured, eh, what the heck, it wasn’t that important. But, uh, yeah. I-”

He heaved a deep breath, and released it, his easy smile plastered onto his face as he turned to Harley, “I just thought you might appreciate a little context, for earlier. To me, the Bats… they’re my family, not just my team. You know?”

She looked at him, an unfamiliar scrutiny in her eyes. Pale skin flashed as she smoothly unfolded and walked close to him. A hand reached out and held his upper arm before she replied. “I think… I might be starting to get it, ‘Wing. Not had much opportunity before, but…yeah.”

There was a moment where her face screwed up a little bit in thought, then she said, “Ya know… Ah’ve been around Joker almost as long as ya’ve been a hero, right? ‘Learnt lotsa lessons from it, ‘bout him, me, and ‘bout people overall. Most important one? One that took me the longest ta’ learn? ”

Again, her bright blues caught his, despite the lenses of his mask in the way, “A smile’s a shield, better than any scowl or helmet. An’ when ya’ around enough of ‘em? Ya learn how to read them.”

Dick’s chest thumped.

Harley winked. Her hand squeezed his arm. “Thanks, Nightie. For sharin’. Didn’t seem easy.”

His mouth opened to speak, and his voice caught. He cleared his throat, and ignored the roughness in his voice, “Yeah, I guess not. Thanks for, uh…listening.”

A big smile shone from her lips, even though she gave a quizzical look, “It don’t cost nothin’ to hear ya out, does it?”

His smile felt fixed. “I guess not.”

The mini-computer with the crime tracker he had built on his wrist beeped in his ear. A glance told him the location. He looked up at her. “Duty calls. Got a bar fight between minor gangs that’s broken to the street. You coming?”

He moved without waiting for a response and hopped the lip of the rooftop thoughtlessly. His line shot out and he swung away to the sound of Harley’s footsteps running right behind him.

Later that night, after patrol, he went through the motions to go to sleep. He couldn’t shake her words from his mind from the moment he got home.

“It don’t cost nothin’ to hear ya out, does it?”

Strip the suit, surface clean it, pack it away. Eat a protein bar, shower, brush his teeth. Climb into bed and sleep.

…Instead of sleep, though, he simply laid in bed and stared at the ceiling as a brooklyn accent echoed in his mind alongside a slideshow of memories.

Jason’s fist cracking against his jaw whilst Tim watched with fury in his eyes. Damien had run off without a word just moments before. Pit rage glowed unnaturally in eyes that were once blue. “You don’t do that to another Robin!”

Harley’s huge sincere smile. “It don’t cost nothin’ to hear ya out, does it?”

They never heard him out. He hadn’t blamed them, because they were right. You don’t do that to another Robin. It didn’t matter if Bruce didn’t give him a choice, they were still right.

Barbara’s glare tearing the duct tape on his heart apart like paper. The scorn dripping from her voice, “Go fuck yourself, Richard.”

Confused blue eyes twinkling with something affectionate. “It don’t cost nothin’ to hear ya out, does it?”

He’d had so much hope, even then, after his siblings. Months of undercover work where his only hope was seeing these people, only to get there and find that hope shattered, the fragments stomped on. He couldn’t blame Barbara though. How many times had he broken her trust? He could never blame her for this.

Steph’s tears as she yelled at him. Cass’s absolute silence, in body and word, as she left. Kori’s cold anger, as if it were something expected of him that she had accepted. Donna’s uncharacteristic shouting, swearing, and rage, her words more cutting than if she’d just hit him. The way none of the Titans, or YJ, had picked up the phone, because the truth had spread that Nightwing was a liar and a traitor. The endless dial tone before he realised Zatanna was off-world, and probably wouldn’t answer anyway. The sinking feeling as he sat on a park bench, his home long since lost after his ****, that the only people who could stomach even talking to him were Bruce, or the people he had worked with in Spyral.

The pure optimism in Harley’s voice as she said, “It don’t cost nothin’ to hear ya out, does it?”

Harley was wrong. It did cost something to hear Dick out. It cost everything, eventually. Not all poisons were fast-acting, after all. Some waited, biding their time until the effects built to a point nobody could take it anymore.

She’d work it out, sooner or later.

—

“Alright Barbie, why the fuck we here?” Jason asked her as he threw himself down at the other end of the coach to where Steph and Cass sat, a mug of hot cocoa in his hand. Tim and Damian both claimed separate chairs, unsurprisingly, and Barbara had placed her chair near the fireplace again.

Jason was the last of the siblings to arrive and settle down, and Barbara found a touch of nerves tingling her stomach, well aware of the reception she was going to get from the topic at hand. She sighed softly, and said, “I get that nobody wants to hear it, but…I'm worried about Dick.”

Almost instantaneously, everyone in the room reacted. The interesting thing was how they reacted. Cass barely showed anything, but there was a tinge of interest to her eyes now. Tim and Steph knew the reason why they were here already, and looked resigned or exasperated. Jason scoffed loudly and muttered something insulting under his breath. Damian, however, swiftly asked “What's the matter with Richard?”

“What the fuck you care for?” Jason asked sharply.

Damian glared at his older brother, “Todd, surely you are not this imbecilic. I care because it is Richard, and because it is Gordon telling us about it.” His eyes returned to her, “I hardly imagine it is a trivial concern, else she wouldn't have cared to mention it, considering the low regard in which she holds him.”

That stung. A lot. It took everything she had to stop herself arguing and defending herself. Even if she was really confident in her defence, which she wasn't, now wasn't the time. “Guys, cut it out! If you'll give me the chance, I'll explain, okay?”

Then, lo and behold, they did quiet down. She let out another soft sigh, “Okay. Let me just say, before I start, that I only noticed any of this by accident. I wasn’t keeping any special eye on him, I just…pay attention.”

Steph smirked a little, “Babs, paying attention? Noooo wayy.”

She allowed herself a small smile in response, “Har har. Very funny.” then let it drop as she continued, “I only really took note of it when I realised I hadn’t gotten any real texts from him in a while. It’s now been almost three weeks with only the barest minimum of contact, which, I’m sure you can all agree, is very unusual for him.”

“Ehhh.” Jason let out a dissenting noise, “Depends on if Dickhead is going through one of his pissy little phases, and we all made him aware that he’d fucked up with us, so it wouldn’t surprise much.”

“Sure, he’s unpredictable about it sometimes. Never this long, but sometimes, sure..” Barbara leant forward slightly and narrowed her eyes, “But then I realised his reports were getting shoddy.”

That raised some eyebrows from everyone, and Tim spoke up with a crease between his eyes, “Shoddy for Dick remains a higher standard of quality and detail than many of the reports that Steph, Cass, or even Bruce submit, Barb.” He looked to his older brother, who was grinning, “Not even going to mention Jason’s reports, for obvious reasons.”

That got some laughter at Jason’s expense, before Barbara’s voice cut in and killed the humour with the simple statement, “They’re actually worse than Jason’s now.”

“Fuckin’ what?!” A tinge of green sparkled in blue eyes as Jason swore loudly, everyone else expressing disbelief, “Listen Barbie, I put good effort into avoiding my reports and doing the bare minimum. Y’really telling me that Dickie the Golden Boy is handing in worse?”

“Yes.” She replied simple, steely blue eyes unyielding, “And there’s more.”

Jason leant back in his seat incredulously, “I’m all ears, at this point, if only because it sound like a fuckin’ fever dream.”

She took a deep breath, and then, “It sounds insane, but… I think he’s started working with Harley Quinn.”

Damian scoffed sharply, “Quinn has been entirely removed from the villain community for over a year now, I hardly think she would be capable of controlling Richard-”

“Other way around, actually. She’s apparently doing hero work.”

There was silence for a moment, as each of the gathered Bats stared in disbelief at the disabled redhead that masterminded their operations.

Steph rather aptly summarised their shared thoughts, “What the actual hell?”