#1.7k

“Got it.”

The largest cryogenic storage vat had been ripped open, like a bomb had gone off inside.

Robin hopped over the frost-like residue caking the tiled floor and took his packet of evidence vials from his belt. He looked over his shoulder at Dick, expectant, but Dick hung back in an observant attitude, just holding the light steady so Robin could see.

A grin spread over Robin’s face as he realized Dick was letting him take the lead. The boy crouched down and got to work, unscrewing the top of the first evidence vial, holding it carefully the way Batman had taught him. He took the metal chem-spoon from his belt and scraped some of the pale-blue sludgey junk from the ripped-open edge of the vat.

“Good job,” Dick said when Robin turned and held up the vial to show him. “Make sure and screw the cap on tight.”

Dick took photos of the lab with his micro-camera, bagged a wrench he found under one of the vats.

It looked like the intruder had escaped through the ventilation system, and it was the same route Dick and Robin were obliged to take, as they heard voices of Gotham police officers arriving on the scene.

The shaft was narrow, the metal of the vent was biting cold through their gloves, but they crawled fast, following the intruder’s path upward until a final grate gave way, spilling them out onto the roof into Gotham’s night air.

Dick scanned the rooftop for footprints and found multiple sets of tracks running for the fire escape. There, their investigation hit a dead end, and they headed to the rendezvous point, the maintenance roof of Gotham Museum of Art, to wait for Batman.

There was a concrete ledge that ran the length of the rooftop. Robin hopped up onto it, and Dick leaned against it, looking down at the lights of cars streaming along Park Row, the heart of downtown Gotham glowing beneath them.

“So what was the fight about?” Robin said.

“When?”

“You know. With your—” Robin dropped his voice, “girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Dick laughed. “Yeah. Pretty sure I’m gonna be in the dog house for a while.”

“Why were you and Sally fighting?” Robin pressed.

“Names,” Dick warned him.

“Sorry,” Robin said hastily.

“I was supposed to be meeting her parents. I keep cancelling on her.” Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make it up to her.”

Robin had dropped to a squat and he was watching Dick intently.

“Maybe you could invite her to dinner at the manor again. I like her, she’s nice. And pretty.”

Dick breathed a laugh. “Yeah, she is.”

“Do you think you’ll marry her?”

That startled a bark of laughter from Dick. He dropped his chin to his chest for a moment. “Let’s take this one step at a time.”

“You brought her to meet me,” Robin pressed. “And—and the boss. You didn’t do that with your other—” He breaks off without saying girlfriends, maybe heeding Dick’s earlier warning.

Dick put his hand on top of Robin’s head, petting his hair playfully. “Don’t start planning the reception just yet.”

“But you like her, right? It’s not because you had a fight?”

Dick sighed.

“No. But it’s complicated. This work we do…doesn’t make things easy. Imagine being married and you keep a secret like this from your wife.” Dick made a face, putting his head to one side. “And the problem is she’s so sharp. She already knows something’s going on that I’m not telling her about. There’s only so many times she’ll accept my lame excuses.”

“But we can’t tell anybody, Nightwing,” Robin reminds him, his eyes widening with solemnity. “That’s our code. We serve Gotham. Civilian friends and family must be protected by omission.”

“True,” Dick said, deadpan, concealing a smile to hear Robin reciting part of their code, the same code Batman had made Dick learn by heart as a boy.

“Well maybe you could tell her,” Robin said. “If you were planning to marry her and everything. Like you said, you can’t lie to your wife.”

“Let’s go,” Batman’s voice rumbled from behind them.

Dick and Robin turned to see the man half-hidden in the shadow of the row of massive, metal transformer enclosures that dominated the building’s roof.

“I got samples!” Robin hopped down off the parapet. “Four vials from four different vats! I also got some goo off the floor.”

“Get anything off the security system?” Dick asked Batman.

Batman turned away. “Not here.”

The Batmobile was parked in an empty freight entrance in a sub-level service garage under the museum.

Dick climbed in the front with Batman, Robin jumped in the back. The boy talked at a rapid clip as Batman drove.

“—and I could get a motorcycle like Nightwing’s!” Robin leaned forward between their seats.

“How old do you think you have to be to ride one of those?” Dick said.

“We’re already breaking the rules—what difference does it make? You could teach me how to drive on yours!”

“Come on,” Dick scoffed. To Batman, he added, “You want to say something about this?”

“I hope you weren’t being serious,” Batman said abruptly—it was the first thing he’d said in the last ten minutes of driving. “What you said about Sally.”

Dick looked over in surprise. “What did I say?”

“You would be endangering her life if you told her.”

A tense silence followed these words from Batman.

“I don’t think I said I was going to tell her,” Dick said stiffly. “I hardly think it’s your business, either way.”

“You don’t operate on your own.”

“Well maybe I should.”

Robin had shuffled back to sit back in his seat.

Things hadn’t cooled off by the time they reached the cave.

"Where do you get off telling me how to live my life?" Dick followed as Batman went over to the caseboard, all of them still in uniform. "It was your idea, right? Go date someone— What is it, you don't like Sally?"

"It's not that." Batman pulled out pins and took down surveillance photos.

"Sure." Dick put his back to the board, facing the other man, trying to get him to meet his eye. "You're not running my life, Bruce. I'm the man in my relationship with my girlfriend. You're not in the picture."

Tim was over by the armory bay, removing his gauntlets, going about it with the careful slowness of someone trying to be unobtrusive while eavesdropping.

"We are all at risk if you share this information with an outsider," Batman said.

Dick glanced at Tim, then shifted closer, saying to Batman quickly, in an undertone,

“ 'An outsider'? Sure, to you. Look, I’m not going to tell her anything about you or—or Tim, or Babs. You told me I need to find a nice girl, have a normal relationship— Then when I do that, you tell me not to get close to her?”

“I never advised you to share all of your life with her. You know that can’t be.”

“Why? Why can’t it be?” Dick tried to keep his voice low, constrained. “How can anyone have a close relationship with someone when they’re keeping a secret like this, lying every day, over and over again? At some point people have to trust each other.”

Batman had been sliding the surveillance photos into a folder, but now his eyes snapped to Dick’s.

"There's bigger things at stake." Batman’s eyes narrowed. "If you let her into this part of your life, you’re involving her directly. You’re endangering her. Anyone you tell becomes a target. You know this.”

“We do this job because it’s who we are. And that’s the person she wants to be with: me. Not half of me—”

“The person she wants to be with is a police officer, a civilian like her. That’s the person she got into a relationship with. As far as she knows.”

“If she decides the risk is too much, that’s her decision to make.”

“A civilian can’t weigh the danger. How could she make an informed choice? If you reveal this part of your life to her, you’re giving her knowledge that will compromise her safety indefinitely.”

“I think I know what’s best for my relationship.”

“You’re prioritizing your own comfort over her safety. Acting on that desire puts her at risk.”

“My own comfort,” Dick repeated. He breathed a disbelieving laugh through his teeth, moving back. “You can’t expect all of us to cut ourselves off from everyone just because you do it.”

He rode his bike home in a blind, unthinking haze of anger, weaving through lanes of traffic like an automaton.

When he was back in his apartment and showered and his suit was stowed away, his cheap instant ramen dinner cooking on the stove, he occupied himself pacing up and down, shaking his head, stewing. He put his hands behind his head, his fingers laced, the argument repeating on him: You’re prioritizing your own comfort over her safety.

"Unbelievable," he muttered. 

He ate and didn't even taste the food. He washed up, then sat on his couch. Looking at his black tv screen, with the dim reflection of himself sitting on the couch, arms-folded, abruptly he felt very weary, and faintly absurd. He sank back, dropping his head onto the back of the couch, rubbing his thumb and finger into his tight-shut eyes. **

[next part]

He spends an embarrassing amount of time getting ready, not wanting to give Lan Qiren more reason to dislike him. He irons his clothes, takes out his piercings, removes his nail varnish and ties his hair up as neat as he can manage. It’s a good thing Lan Zhan has already left for work, or he’d look at Wei Ying sadly and tell him not to change himself for anyone.

The restaurant Lan Qiren has picked is fancy to say the least. Wei Ying feels astoundingly out of place, but manages to walk in with his head held high. He’s arrived exactly on time but Lan Qiren is already seated at the table.

Wei Ying greets him and takes a seat. He thinks he sees Lan Qiren nod ever so slightly in response. It’s one step above being completely ignored like last time, so they’re off to a good start he tells himself.

The restaurant is not very busy at this time. Only faint music and the clinking of cutlery can be heard. The silence stretches between them. Wei Ying clears his throat. “How have you been, Uncle?” Lan Qiren’s eye twitches. “We haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“With reason.” Lan Qiren doesn’t look at him as he speaks, instead glancing around the restaurant like he’s observing the decor.

Wei Ying tries not to falter. “Thank you for inviting me to lunch, Uncle. I wasn’t expecting it at all, but I’m glad you did.”

“Yes, I suppose it’s not every day someone like you gets to dine at an establishment like this.”

“I’ve come here before, without Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying’s face is beginning to ache with the smile he keeps plastered on. “You forget I grew up with the Jiangs.”

“Grew up with, yes.” Lan Qiren finally looks at him. “But you are not one of them.”

“No, I’m not. I’m your former classmate’s son, if you recall.” Wei Ying tries his very best to remain polite. For Lan Zhan’s sake. “What I meant was that it hurts me to see Lan Zhan unhappy. I’m sure it upsets you too. He is your nephew after all.”

“What upsets me is his inability to discern good from bad. He continues to disappoint me.” Lan Qiren rudely waves away the waiter that approaches their table. “He can’t see that his family has his best interests in mind, not duplicitous outsiders.”

“Did you invite me here to insult me, Uncle?” Wei Ying laughs. “You could have done that over the phone. It would’ve saved you the trip. I know your knees have been giving you trouble recently.”

Lan Qiren scowls. “I called you here to make you an offer.”

“An offer?”

“Ah, that’s piqued your interest, has it?” Lan Qiren strokes his goatee smugly. “As expected.”

Wei Ying is so confused. “I really don’t understand what you’re saying, Uncle.”

“I am not your uncle,” Lan Qiren erupts. “Drop the act, Lan Zhan is not here to see.” He pulls out a pen and paper from his pocket and scribbles something down. “Here.” He slides the paper across the table. “Now leave my nephew.”

Bewildered, Wei Ying looks down at the paper. And then he sees what it really is — a cheque, in Wei Ying’s name. “Huh?”

“Take this money and leave my nephew,” Lan Qiren says calmly.

“What?!”

“Stop playing dumb. This is what you’re really after, right? So take it!” He roughly pushes the cheque the rest of the way. “It’s more than you could ever dream of. Take it and get out of my nephew’s life!”

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Wei Ying is at a complete loss for words. He feels like he’s been teleported into one of those horrible soap operas Madam Yu likes to watch, and Lan Qiren is the evil, scheming mother-in-law.

“No fucking way,” he blurts.

Lan Qiren goes purple with rage. “You insolent—!” But he’s interrupted by his phone ringing.

It looks like the call is important. “Wait here,” he instructs Wei Ying, still looking furious, and then walks off with his phone to his ear. But not before pocketing the cheque first.

Wei Ying can’t believe this is happening. He scrambles to get his own phone out and quickly calls Lan Zhan, keeping an eye out for Lan Qiren.

Despite being at work, Lan Zhan picks up on the second ring. “Wei Ying?”

“Lan Zhan, you’ll never fucking believe this!” he whisper-screams down the phone.

“Is everything okay?” Lan Zhan sounds worried. “Has Uncle done something?”

“No, no. Good news,” Wei Ying reassures him. “He hasn’t tried to run me over or anything this time.”

“This time?” Ah shit. Wei Ying wasn’t supposed to mention that incident to Lan Zhan. “And what is the bad news?”

“Well…” He grimaces even though Lan Zhan can’t see him. “He’s just offered me money to leave you.”

“What?” The disbelief in Lan Zhan’s voice is loud and clear.

“Exactly! It’s like something out of a cheesy K-drama!” In fact Wei Ying’s pretty sure he’s seen this exact scene in a show before. Only difference is Lan Qiren isn’t wearing fur and pearls and a fancy updo. “I don’t know whether to laugh or be angry. Your uncle’s gone insane!”

There’s a long moment of silence on the other end of the line. And then Lan Zhan asks, “How much did he offer?”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying guffaws. “That’s your main concern? How much? I don’t know, a completely crazy amount. There were so many zeroes on the cheque I lost count.”

“You should take the money.”

“What.” Wei Ying’s heart plummets. Surely not…

“Take the money and stay with me regardless,” Lan Zhan tells him. “He won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“Lan Zhan!” Relief washes over Wei Ying. “Are you telling me to scam your own uncle?”

“Mn. Why not.”

“I love you,” Wei Ying laughs. “I love you so much, Lan Zhan. I hope you know that.” Then he spots Lan Qiren heading back over. “Okay, I have to go now. Talk to you later. Love you, muah!” He blows a kiss through the phone and then rushes to put it away before Lan Qiren sees.

The man takes his seat at the table once again. “You're still here. Well, of course you are.” He takes the cheque out of his pocket and puts it back onto the table, looking smug. “You wouldn’t leave without this.”

Wei Ying looks down at the cheque, unable to withhold his disdain. “This is all you think your beloved nephew is worth?”

Lan Qiren scoffs. “So you want more? I should have known. Name your price. Whatever it takes to be rid of you for good.”

“I will not leave Lan Zhan. Ever.” Wei Ying emphasises each individual word. “I love him.”

“Name your price, boy,” Lan Qiren repeats, getting angrier. “He won’t miss you. I’ll have a hundred eligible young men lined up for him by the end of the week. Men of his calibre, not money hungry vermin like you.”

“Money hungry,” Wei Ying laughs. “But I don’t want your money, Uncle. Not even if you double it, or triple it, or give me everything you own. All I want is Lan Zhan. All I’ve ever wanted is Lan Zhan.”

“And you really expect me to believe that him being the heir to Lan Enterprise has nothing to do with it?” Lan Qiren sneers.

“Nothing at all.” Wei Ying shrugs. “I’ve loved him since we were children. I loved him when he didn’t have a penny to his name after you cut him off for being gay. And I’ll love him till my dying breath, and in every lifetime thereafter.”

“Oh, cut the nonsense!” Lan Qiren’s fists are clenched into the tablecloth. “Do you know how easy it’ll be for me to ruin your life? To destroy everything you care about? I will make your life a living hell!” He bangs his fists against the table, making the plates rattle and the water in his glass splash over. “So if you have an ounce of sense you’ll take the money now and leave peacefully. This is your last chance.”

Wei Ying considers the man carefully. Then he picks up the cheque. He reads it properly this time and realises the figure is even bigger than he’d originally thought. More money than he’ll ever see in his lifetime.

“I think,” he says, and smiles up at Lan Qiren, “You should stuff your cheque, Uncle,” and rips it up into small pieces, throwing them up in the air.

this milestone post is not for me to celebrate but to thank everyone who stay and keep cheering me up. i honestly had few days feeling down, thinking if i still should continue my acct but because of you dears who leave encouraging message. I'll stay stronger as ever.

i cherish each one of you who follows me because i know, you flw because you love my work. I'm also even more happier because I can notice the improvement everytime i post, the amount of likes and rb I get. how fast i gain flws this time. not only here in my main but also with my side blog.

again, thank you so much for always being there, showing support with your words or even in silent way- leaving notes in my contents. i appreciate you guys so much. it's not only your mbs that are beautiful but you lovelies are also amazing and wonderful people, inside and out. + their some blogs in the tags that are my inspiration, everyone is so talented. (you might get confuse why your tagged even we didn't had a chance to interact much)

@koosuvi @wiotas @vioquese @ecojinri @tzulipss @yeritos @y-ves @isamiracle @yunjidoll @lorlita @i04rei @lovelyanqell @starmio @interstellarz @stellattee @h-ao @chwrtzs @k-yujin @kiotopia @baesol @tyunlouv @alfaire @hazelnut-affogato @sakkurada @v6mpcat @jaes1lvr @i-jiwon @jeonzio @trivijoy @tozak-i @y-eora @jennnieee @webzzo @i-telepatia @minguukie @iluvrei @sseulr1n @w-eons @wonk1s @chaey2k @dewyrka @y-ujin @miunote @wonflirtz @haewrin @y-unjins +more of my moots. (sorry if i might missed someone)

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