Chapter Eleven

All throughout the next day, Tim kept finding his mind running through the new mystery presented to him, the question that refused explanation; What was going on with Dick?

He was familiar with unusual circumstances and the strange happenings that could stem from such situations, had been in many of them himself. It was hardly every day that one found their not-dead father through the timestream alone, after all, and weirder things had happened. Yet, Dick was different. He was the best of them, the only man who could have taken up Batman’s cowl. Tim wasn’t so prideful that he couldn’t admit that degree better Dick was at the work they did. The only thing that Tim truly excelled at in comparison was the highly complex detective and analysis work, and Dick was usually able to compensate for that with exceptional people skills.

But he just couldn’t work out where things linked together, how the presented issues intersected and connected to one another. Dick left for Bludhaven months ago after…well, pretty much straight after he got back. Nobody could deal with being around him, so he took himself away. Probably thinking it was for their comfort, knowing him. He’d started up Nightwing again over there, and kept trying for…how long had he spent trying to connect with them all?

His phone said that the last personal text Tim had from him was almost two months ago. How had he not noticed the quiet? He…he had just been grateful for the quiet.

But even then, how did Harley factor into the situation?

He needed more details.

—

Jason was a little less analytical about it, and a lot more emotional. He couldn’t believe that Goldie was working with the crazy blonde chick that was obsessed with the Joker. The man that fucking killed him, and his supposed brother was working all nice and friendly with the clown’s little girlfriend, as if nothing was wrong.

Green flushed his vision most of the day, and it was only the underlying current of worry that kept him from sinking. How did it even happen? What the fuck was Dick thinking? And why was he so fucking quiet?

There was a time that he couldn’t get the older brother to leave him alone, phone going off with a meaningless text every other minute. Even after he tried to kill the Replacement, all he ever wanted was to help. Why, then, was it that they only knew anything was happening because Barbara- because Oracle took notice of a little detail? Because rumours on the street talked about Quinn having swapped sides? Because of some shit reports?

And the fuckin’ gall of him to turn off his damn tracker when he was the entire reason Jason had one to begin with? Sure, he kept it off half the time, but only for good reasons, business reasons. What was Goldie’s bullshit excuse?

Quite a few criminals went to lockup with deep bruises or broken bones that night, through the haze of green.

—

Cass did not understand.

She thought she had come quite a ways, in how to understand family, and how the Bat-family operated. Very different to her blood relations, but very much nicer, comfortable, loving.

The things Barbara said were…concerning. And everyone showed that, their bodies screamed it. Concern and worry and love and confusion. She felt the same. Harley Quinn was unwell-insane-bad. It did not make sense for her to be working beside someone like her brother. She was missing details, and did not know how to get them. She had watched Nightwing-Richard on patrol in Bludhaven, hiding from sight, and still did not understand. He was the same as she knew. Bright, good, strong, but also mask, shield, hiding. She couldn’t tell the details, and didn’t know how to find them any other way.

But she did not understand, and she was worried and upset, because she loved him. No matter the months-ago upset that she still carried, she loved her brother.

—

Damian, for his part, thought the whole matter a misunderstanding of the utmost degree. Truly, he had not heard so ridiculous a series of empty concerns and unrealistic rumours. Richard, paragon of weak yet heartwarming principles such as family and love, making no effort to contact any of them? It was a ludicrous concept. No matter that he hadn’t received a message from Grayson in several weeks. It was far more likely that there was a simple explanation, that he had become busy with some work matter.

The newest Robin ignored that little voice in his head that told him of all the times that Richard had made the time to talk or visit even during the busiest of weeks, and quieted the one that sounded like Richard talking to him in that infuriatingly soft and gentle voice after a rough patrol, saying ‘Family always comes first, Little D. No matter what, if you call, I’ll be there.’ because he hadn’t been there, had he?

No. Instead, Damian had returned from his noble **** and found Richard to be gone, without so much as a chance to inform him of the love he holds. To then find that it was all false, that he was merely pretending for the sake of a mission? It went against everything, against every principle, that Richard had taught him. Hypocrisy of the highest degree. Of course Damian had been upset, rightfully so! He had been Robin to Richard’s Batman, the pair were the ultimate duo, eldest and youngest sibling, first and newest Robin, almost- He had almost called him Father, in those years whilst the other- whilst Batman had been missing.

…and yet he couldn’t shake off the unease that Grayson’s silence brought.

—-

Steph knew how people saw her. She was the blonde chick from Crime Alley, accent too thick to fully get rid of, no matter how she tried. The one who was barely a Robin for five minutes before moving on, who was a bit shit compared to the others. She couldn’t hack like Babs, or analyse like Tim. She lacked Damian’s skill with those swords, Cass’s lifelong training, Jason’s ferocity and aim. She lacked Bruce’s relentless drive, and she definitely couldn’t hope to match up to Dick, the only one of them to outshine Bruce in basically every way.

She got it, she knew, she was always seen as the slightly shitty Batgirl, worse than her predecessors. She saw the discussions online, heard the rumours about how she seemed prettier or less dangerous than the others. Steph knew how people saw her, she saw it all herself already. She had no special skill, really.

The thing was, she had stopped caring years ago what people thought of her, whether it was as Steph, as Spoiler, or as Batgirl. She used to care so much about it all, got herself into so much anxiety and even one or two panic attacks, trying to work out how to be better, how to get those people to like her.

But then, Dick had happened. She would never say it, she loved Bruce for all his faults, but she sometimes missed those days, when he was gone and Dick was Batman, and she was Batgirl. It had been amazing, despite everything. So, when she said that Dick happened, she meant that Batman had dropped the cowl and sat down with her, and helped her through it. He helped her realise that it didn’t matter what everyone thought, as long as she liked herself and the good she did. All of his profuse, endless praise and support didn’t go amiss either, she could admit to herself.

It wouldn’t be a lie for Steph to say that Spoiler only existed now, that she had only grown enough to fit the new role, because of Dick. Without him, she probably wouldn’t have made it through.

So, for Steph? It didn’t matter, right now, how pissed- how upset she was that he faked his ****. It didn’t matter if he didn’t want to talk to her, or if he was hanging out with a different crazy blonde. For all she cared, he could be doing quiz night with the Riddler. No, what mattered was the fact that something was wrong.

She might be Spoiler now, but there was always going to be a part of her which was Batgirl. And for Batgirl? Something was wrong with her Batman, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to be there to back him up after everything they’d been through.