#this time..it was different because now we're..uh..

Despite your endeavor to rid your feelings for him, every now and then, you'd reminisce about the past, about how much time you spent with him.

It was so long ago, but you remember it as clear as day. You remember the way you silently pined after him. The way you would overthink every glance, every brush of his fingers. The way you would look into his eyes, wishing that one day he'd wake up seeing you the way you see him.

Of course, it didn't exactly start like that.

-

You sighed as you opened the back storage room to the library. The school librarians wanted you to check for some textbook that a student requested, a biology course. You turned on the light in the large room, and were met by quite a surprise.

Dick Grayson stood in the aisle ahead of you. You recognized him from your classes. He was also relatively well-known for being the ward of Bruce Wayne. You watched as he frantically attempted to put on a bright green shoe. He immediately froze as you both made eye contact.

Both of you stared at each other for a long moment, his shoe long forgotten, it lay limp in his hand.

"So, you uh— come here often?" You asked awkwardly, trying to ease the tension.

Your words snap him out of his daze, "It's not what it looks like."

"Oh, so you're not changing into a Robin costume." You raised an eyebrow

"It's more of a uniform, but yeah, it's for… a costume… party." He attempted to shrug casually.

You blinked slowly, "You just said it was a uniform and not a costume."

"Okay, well," he exhaled, frustrated, "I mean, it's a uniform because that's what you wear to a costume party. Costumes are a uniform for costume parties." He finished putting on the shoe, reaching into his backpack to grab a cape.

"Right, of course, my fault." You raised your hands in mock surrender. You watch him put on the cape slowly in silence, "Who is hosting a costume party this time of the year anyway? During school, nonetheless. I didn't see any flyers about it."

Dick huffed, clearly frustrated that you aren't buying his obvious bullshit. "Life is too short not to enjoy spontaneous costume parties."

You nodded, smiling, "Valid," you watch as he secures the cape, "so can I join?"

It appeared as if your comment short-circuited him for a moment, "What?"

"The party." You clarified

"…No," he shook his head.

"But life is too short not to enj— wait, where are you going?" You frowned, watching him attempt to walk past you.

"Out? Don't want to be late." His eyes are covered by the domino, but you can read the confusion.

"Into the very public student library where people will see you?" You crossed your arms, moving aside. "I mean, be my guest. After all, it's just a costume party."

You smirked at him as he hesitated right at the door before slowly turning towards you. Blinking innocently at him, you watched his inner struggle.

"What would you suggest then?"

Grinning, you grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side. He raised an eyebrow at the action. "Okay, okay, so," you clap your hands together, "I will go out and make sure the coast is clear. There is an exit at the back of the library that you can sneak out of. I will guide you there."

Dick— Robin nodded slowly at your plan, "Alright."

You wiped imaginary dust off your hands, "Okay, wait here for a sec, I'm gonna check, and I'll tell you when to leave." You gestured your hands toward him in a "stay" motion, to which he furrowed his eyebrows.

Peeking out of the storage room, you saw the librarian still talking to the student from earlier who needed the textbook. She called your name, "You got the textbook? Do you need help finding it? We can send in another person to help you look."

Frantically, you shook your head, "No! It's just, uh, what was the course again? Bio?"

"AP Bio." The librarian clarified, and you nodded, heading back into the storage room.

"Clear?" Robin asked.

"Not clear, definitely not clear." You frantically looked for the AP Bio textbooks. Robin watched as you looked at each aisle, searching.

"What're you looking for?" He asked.

"AP Bio textbook," you didn't even spare him a glance.

"Aren't all of those classes filled already?" He leaned against the wall.

"Yep." Of course, for some reason, half the school decided to take AP Biology this year, and as a result, there aren't any AP Bio textbooks lying around in storage. Usually, this is not an issue; after all, you just ask somebody if there are any lying around, or see if any students dropped the class and have recently returned the book.

However, there was a bird following you. You turned to Robin, who was following you like a lost puppy. You'd laugh if you weren't terrified that somebody would walk in and see him.

Robin paused once you turned to face him, "Get behind those boxes." You point to a large pile of boxes covered by a (likely dusty) tarp.

"What, why?" He asked, skeptically approaching the tarp, putting a gloved finger on it. You both watched as a layer of dust covered his glove. He looks back at you, unimpressed.

Suddenly, the storage room door opened, and both you and Robin shared a look of unadulterated horror. You ushered him to the corner, throwing the tarp on top of him.

You turned towards the door, seeing another student assistant. "Hey!" You greeted.

They smile at you, "Hey, Ms. Sumner said to help you look for any AP Bio textbooks. She said it's unlikely we'll find any, but it'd be quicker to look if there were two of us."

"Ah," you nod, "makes sense. Well, guess we'd better start searching. I already looked at the biology section."

They nodded, "Yeah, it could never be that easy." They shake their head sadly, "Well, she said to take our time searching. Apparently, the student has a pass to be here all period."

"Got it, so take our time— ow." You looked down at the tarp, which just kicked your ankle.

They looked over to you, "You good? Also, what's with the dust?" They point to your clothes, all covered in a layer of dust from throwing Robin under the tarp.

"Yeah, just checking old boxes to see if any textbooks were stored in them. I tripped on a box I didn't push in fully." You kicked the "box" back, feeling slight satisfaction when you saw the tarp rustle at your action.

"Ah," they nodded, and you both got to work silently, resisting the urge to check on Robin. After ten minutes of searching, you snuck your way back over to the tarp.

"Psst, you good?" You whispered.

No response.

You coughed, but suddenly a large textbook slid underneath the tarp.

An AP Bio textbook.

You looked down at the dusty textbook, then back to the tarp covering Robin, "Hey, I found one! It was hidden beneath the tarp. Guess I missed it whilst I was getting assaulted by dust." You brushed off the majority of the dust from the cover.

You held the textbook up for the other assistant who came walking over, "Wait, actually? Hang on, maybe there's more underneath—"

Both you and Robin jolted at their words, "No!" You instantly placed yourself in front of the boxes, covering the suspiciously Robin-shaped lump underneath. "It's dusty under there. I personally wouldn't recommend it."

"Oh," they blinked, "okay? Anyway, do you want me to take the textbook out? So you can try and clean up." They gestured to the dust covering you.

You nodded immediately, "That'd be great." You handed over the book to them and watched in anticipation as she left. The moment the door closed, Robin lifted the tarp, causing another cloud of dust to puff up.

"Have fun in the trenches?" You asked, smirking at the frown that formed on Robin's face.

"Oh, you know it." He rolled his eyes— well, you couldn't actually see if he did (courtesy of the mask), but you imagined it.

"Now should be our opportunity to go. Everybody will be busy out there." You gestured for him to follow. He trailed you to the exit of the storage room. You peeked out, making sure the coast is clear before guiding him swiftly to the exit.

Upon exiting, you made sure he was far from any windows. You refused to sneak him out just to get spotted outside the window. "Well, I'd say that went well." You brushed your hands off, attempting to rid them of the dust that lingered on your fingertips.

"I was stuck underneath a tarp for ten minutes." Robin deadpanned.

"It was actually eleven, but who is counting?" You shrugged. He let out an exhale that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"We'll talk later. Don't go telling anybody about…" He looked at you expectantly.

"Talk? About your costume party?" You smiled, "I won't, promise. Have a good day crime fighting." You waved at him, expecting him to leave.

He cracked a smile, "Wait," he held his hand out to you, "what's your name anyway?"

Your smile dropped, "We've… been in the same classes since 6th grade."

You saw his smile drop. "Oh," he said eloquently, shifting awkwardly.

You chuckled, "I'm joking, well not really, but we haven't really shared many classes. I wouldn't expect you to know me. We never talked."

In your defense, you didn't mean to make him feel bad for not noticing you. Dick Grayson was a pretty popular person, and you just weren't involved in his friend group. The only reason you know him is because everybody knows him. After all, how often does Bruce Wayne take in a kid?

Robin gave you a guilty look, "So," he shifted, "no name?"

You let out a genuine laugh, pitying him enough to offer your name, "You could've just waited until class tomorrow. I mean, unless you were planning on doing a background check on your little computer at your headquarters, or whatever Batman has."

Robin remained silent, staring at you.

"Wait, are you actually gonna do a background check on me?"

Robin didn't say anything.

"We go to school together."

"And you figured out my identity, we need to make sure you are trustworthy."

You frowned, "Well, I didn't figure out anything. You decided to change in the library storage room. Which, may I add, is a terrible idea."

Robin shrugged, "Nobody noticed anything in the past."

You paused, processing the information, "That's not the first time you've done that?"

Robin blinked innocently, grabbing his grappling hook.

"Robin."

He aimed the grappling hook up.

"Robin."

You watched in disbelief as he shot the grappling hook, letting it hook onto a nearby building.

"Dick!"

He turned toward you, glaring, "Code name." He used his free hand to point to you in a "I'm watching you" motion before allowing himself to get whisked away.

You watched as he flew away, "Your name happens to have an alternative meaning." You huffed, watching as he disappeared.

Taking one last glance at where he was, you slowly make your way back into the library. The other assistant raised an eyebrow at you. "You good?"

You paused, "Never better."

True to your word, you did not tell anybody about what happened that day. Who could you even tell? You were essentially burdened with this knowledge because you were now one of probably fewer than twenty people who knew the secret identity of Robin, and you couldn't say anything. You can't talk to anybody about it. The only person is the damn vigilante himself, but you can't imagine that would go well.

The following day proceeded as normal.

Well, normal until Dick decided to approach you in front of everybody.

You didn't even do anything to catch his attention to be pulled aside. No "Hey, let's meet somewhere to talk!" Nope. He approached you and your friends at lunch.

"Hey!" Dick grinned, leaning on your table, directly across from you.

You raised your eyebrows at him, a silent question. Did he really want to do this now?

His grin didn't falter. Blinking, he turned to your friends, "Could I borrow her for a moment?"

You felt your friends smirk mischievously, "Oh, for sure, just return her in one piece." One of them clasped a hand on your shoulder. You turned to glare at her.

"Of course, of course." Dick laughed before gesturing for you to follow.

Sighing, you glared at your friends as Dick walked away, obviously expecting you to follow. Part of you doesn't want to follow out of spite, just to make him look stupid, "You never told us you were close like that with Dick Grayson?" One of them whispered once he was out of earshot, smirking at you.

"We aren't." You responded dryly, "I'll be back."

You catch up with Dick, following closely behind him. It almost reminds you of how he followed you around the library helplessly yesterday; the memory brought a small smile to your face.

"Well, you haven't wasted any time." You commented, moving to stand next to him.

Dick raised an eyebrow, "I told you we'd talk today."

You nodded, "Yeah, but that didn't mean that I wanted you to approach me in front of everybody."

Dick tilted his head to the side, now facing you entirely, eyebrow still raised, "And… how is that an issue? People talk all the time?"

"People don't talk to you all the time. Especially people who had never interacted with you less than twenty hours ago."

Dick blinked slowly, unaffected. "And how exactly is that an issue?" He repeated.

"People are gonna think like something is going on…" You gesture between you two, "between us."

"Oh," Dick hummed, turning away from you and taking you… you weren't actually sure where. He pulled you aside to an unfamiliar, empty classroom. "Nobody will fault you for having a crush on me." He smirked, the words sardonic. "No need to be embarrassed." He waved it off, teasingly.

You laughed, betraying your rising embarrassment, "You think you're soooo funny."

He grinned, turning toward you, "Am I not?"

"I'm laughing," you deadpanned.

He laughed, "That's what I thought."

"Hm, so how did that background check go?"

Dick sighed, "Disappointed to report that you are not a recorded villain in Gotham."

You snapped your fingers, "Damn, and I was trying so hard."

Dick smiled at your comment, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Did you tell anybody?"

You raised an eyebrow, "You have that little faith in me?"

Dick raised an eyebrow, mirroring your expression, "Okay, fair enough. I didn't tell anybody." You sighed.

"Do you… plan on telling anybody?" You looked toward Dick, but he wasn't even making eye contact. It was at that moment that you realized how he felt. To you, this was just a fun tidbit of information nobody else would be privy to. To him, this is a part of his identity. You could reveal Robin to the public if you desired (which you do not).

"No," you tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but he didn't seem that pleased. "Have you told anybody that I know about it?"

Dick shook his head, "Trying to avoid that conversation with him. Batman would kill me."

You huffed, "What is he, your dad or something?"

Dick looked at you in barely concealed horror, "Oh." Well, that made sense considering who Robin was, but picturing Bruce Wayne as Batman was quite the image.

Okay, new plan!

"How about... You don't tell Batman that I know, and we can just keep this" you gestured between you two, "between us?"

Dick frowned, "You think that's the best course of action? Batman knows everything. He'll know!"

"You just said he didn't know."

"Well, he will know."

"Not if you don't tell him!"

"Why do you care so much about Batman knowing that you know?"

"'Cause I don't want to get jumped by Batman."

Dick paused before laughing loudly, "Batman isn't going to jump you..." He looked up to meet your eyes hesitantly, "Probably."

"Exactly, he won't if you don't tell him. Look, I don't care who Robin is—" Dick gave you an offended look, "I mean— I care, but it's really none of my business. We can just go on as if nothing happened. You don't want Batman finding out," you gestured to him, before pointing to yourself, "I don't want Batman finding out, it's a win-win."

Dick looked at you contemplatively, "Okay,"

"Great, so we're good?" You grinned, thumbs up in goodwill.

"So you won't tell anybody?" Dick reiterated.

"I won't." You reassured him.

"You won't message anybody?"

"Nope."

"Email anybody?"

"That's just fancy messaging, so… no."

"Take a photo?"

"It's hard enough to get photos of Robin or Batman as it is, so unfortunately, I will not be making bank off of Robin photos."

Dick patiently awaited a response.

"Geez, no." You felt your eye twitch in exasperation.

"Leave evidence of my identity in a convenient location for somebody to find it?"

You gave Dick the most blank face imaginable before raising your right hand, "I will not communicate or attempt to convey your identity to anything, anybody, or anyone in any shape or manner."

Dick remained silent for a moment before he spoke again, "It's more of a uniform."

"That's what you gathered from that?"

"Okay, fine, fine." Dick raised his hands in mock surrender, "We do have to do a blood pact, though, bind it with your soul. Batman protocol and all that." He brushed his hands casually.

You stared at him unblinking, "You're joking."

Dick pursed his lips, "'fraid not. Do you have a knife on hand?"

"We're on a school campus!"

"And they didn't catch me smuggling a whole grappling hook onto it, a knife should be a cakewalk." Dick shrugged casually.

"I can't tell if you're playing with me."

Dick laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. For a moment, you were struck by just who you were hanging out with. What were the chances you'd befriend Dick and Robin on a random Tuesday? His laughter was contagious, and you couldn't stop the chuckles that escaped your mouth. Dick was popular for multiple reasons, his charisma and general affability apparent to anybody with eyes.

He turned toward you, his mischievous, but genuine smile blinding you.

Though perhaps there were other reasons, you admitted to yourself.

-

While whatever relationship you had with Dick couldn't be considered friends, it definitely started to feel like that. Perhaps reluctant allies would be a better term? Though even that sounded too formal for what it was.

After he confronted you, you thought things would go back to normal, but then Dick would do something that reminded you that you gave up "normal" the moment you befriended him.

So now your new normal consisted of him coming to talk to you about his double life.

At first, you were a little shocked. After all, didn't he grab you from your friends to ensure you didn't talk about it? In front of most of the school, nonetheless?

Apparently, he meant you couldn't talk about it, but he could talk about it all he wanted.

"—and I was so frustrated! Like, after all this time, he still doesn't trust me!" Dick vented. The two of you were in that spot right outside the hidden library exit. It was relatively safe since it was only ever frequented by students or staff who spent a lot of time in the library, which was minimal.

"Did you tell him that?" You sat, back propped against the wall, tapping your foot.

"No, but he wouldn't understand it if I did." He sighed, "He always assumes that if he isn't there to hover over me, then I can't do it. Can't do anything on my own."

You nodded sympathetically. While you may have had zero background that relates to crime fighting and the trust between your partner on the field, you could imagine everything Dick was saying. He was a surprisingly good storyteller, describing his experiences on the field.

"And so he sees any act of you trying to prove yourself as another reason why he 'shouldn't trust you' alone?" You did air quotes as you spoke.

Dick huffed, "Yep." He moved, plopping himself down right next to you on the ground. You immediately stopped tapping your foot, as if afraid continuing the action would make him realize how close you two were.

"Hm, well yeah, that does sound like a problem." You nodded distractedly, telling yourself to focus on anything except Dick. He is venting to you right now.

Dick scoffed, "Understatement of the century."

"Well…" you hesitated before giving advice because who even are you to give advice on Robin's relationship with Batman? "Perhaps you need to communicate this to Batman? I doubt he'll understand completely, and hell, maybe he won't even change, but by not saying anything, you aren't giving him the opportunity to." You looked toward Dick, who was staring directly at your eyes, "It isn't fair for either of you." You held your hands up, "I mean, that's what I'd do. I am not responsible if that advice ruins your life."

Dick snorted before furrowing his eyebrows and sighing. "I hate it when you're right."

You smiled, "Am I not always right?" You joked.

Dick hummed, a small smile on his face, "Then I must always hate you."

Although the word was, frankly, the polar opposite of the word that you were thinking of, you couldn't help but think his declaration of "hatred" sounded a lot like something else. The smile on his face, the way he watched you as you spoke, the way he hummed to acknowledge he was listening.

At that moment, your brain wanted you to say something, anything.

Instead, you sat in comfortable silence with him.

That moment wasn't when you fell in love with him; that's just when you figured it out. There was no instance where you could say you "fell in love with him." It was not a switch, no, it was slower than that. You didn't wake up one day with the sudden realization you loved him. You woke up each day falling deeper and deeper. Eventually, you reached the deep end before ever realizing you left the shallow side.

At first, you thought maybe you had a chance. After all, once you found out his little secret, you two spent a lot of time together. You were his friend, his confidant.

However, you realized something. Despite all the trust he extended to you, he never treated you as anything more. You wouldn't figure it out until years later, but your first clue was Barbara Gordon.

She was the first person that you heard Dick confide in about Robin stuff that wasn't you. Eventually, it was revealed that she was Batgirl, which made you feel so much better. You weren't jealous, per se, but you knew that even if what they had was just a close friendship, it would be something that you would never be able to replicate with Dick. She could empathize in a way you weren't able to, no matter how much you tried. They were partners out there, even if it wasn't like that.

You tried not to talk about their… relationship? You weren't entirely sure what it was. Either way, it wasn't something you willingly brought up. Not like you could ask Dick, "Hey, are you and Barbara dating?" Somehow, you felt that no matter what answer you received, you would still feel heartbroken after.

For months, you witnessed the friendship between Barbara and Dick grow. You watched as she slowly became a bigger and bigger part of his life. As a result, she slowly became a bigger part of yours.

You liked her. She was a trustworthy person. You were glad that out on the field, they could rely on each other. You befriended her not out of sheer necessity through forced interaction, but because she was genuinely a great person to talk to.

Additionally, you truly enjoyed her company. She was another person to talk to who knew about Batman. You made her promise not to say anything about you knowing. She had found your worry amusing, but nonetheless promised to not say anything about you knowing, which you were grateful for.

A year went by, and Batman was none the wiser to what you knew (to your information). Truthfully, you had no reason to believe he'd ever find out.

Despite your wishes, deep down you knew it was always inevitable that he'd find out about you.

Classes had been dreadfully boring that day. Nothing interesting had happened, and all you wanted to do was go home. Your English teacher prattled on about 1984, telling the class that you had to do an assignment assessing Winston's relationship with Julia, due the next class.

You had been tuning the guy out for a bit, figuring you'd just read the instructions posted with it, when Dick aggressively tapped your shoulder from behind you. Startled, you turned around, "Yes..?" You whispered, attempting to not get the teacher's attention.

"I need to get out of here." He whispered back. You blinked, glancing at the teacher, then back to Dick.

"Now?"

"Yeah, like now."

"Just make some excuse or run out?" You shrugged, eyes flickering towards the teacher.

"Could you cover for me?" Dick asked, pleading.

You pretended to think, "Nah."

Dick deadpanned to you.

"Joking, just go! I'll tell them that you were about to throw up or something."

Dick rolled his eyes, but smiled at you, patting you on the shoulder in thanks before bolting from the room.

"Mr. Grayson!" Your English teacher bellowed from the front of the classroom. You put on your best "concerned friend" face.

"Sir, I think he was going to vomit. He was looking really feverish during lunch today." You fidgeted, attempting to make yourself look more convincing. The whole class was watching you. Dick owed you for this.

"Oh," the teacher frowned, "perhaps we should send someone after him?"

"Oh, oh. No– no, I think it's fine, I think Mr. Wayne is gonna pull him from class." You explained, slightly more frantic.

The teacher raised an eyebrow, "I didn't get a call or anything."

The whole class stared at you, expecting you to have all the answers. "It's Bruce Wayne." You shrugged. When in doubt, just pull the "They're rich and powerful" card.

The teacher frowned, contemplating the justification, before smiling faintly, "Hm, fair enough. So as I was saying…"

You exhaled in relief, thinking that the most stressful part of your day was over. After that class, you had begun to anxiously check your phone, hoping for some update from Robin.

Unsurprisingly, there was nothing. You knew he was probably busy, but you couldn't help but wonder what happened. It wasn't often that Dick had to actively leave school for "Robin Duties." In fact, it had only happened a couple of times (not including your first meeting), so it had to be pretty serious.

You didn't realize how serious it was until much later.

Apparently, the Joker had decided to plant explosives all around the city. The details of why exactly weren't released to the public, but it was the Joker. He didn't really need a reason.

You knew it was serious because the news was talking about how Batman was out during the day attempting to disarm the bombs. There were a few Robin sightings, but despite being out in broad daylight, they were still pretty elusive.

Even by the end of the school day, they were still out there working. Apparently, there was still one bomb that still hadn't been found. You had made your way to the subway before getting on. They were moderately filled despite the present danger. For the first couple minutes of the ride, nothing was out of the ordinary.

You had been standing, grabbing onto one of the poles to keep you in place. You had given up your seat to an older woman with a cane. While she had seemed a little suspicious initially, her skepticism turned to gratitude once she realized you had no ill intentions. A tall man was standing to your right, his olive green jacket had some grease stains, and he had corded earbuds in, his eyes anxiously flickering toward you, as if wary you'd steal his items. Across from you, there was a young mother, her hair up in a bun with prominent eye bags. She was attempting to shush her crying child. Across her, a bearded man periodically glanced at the child, annoyance evident by the huff he gave.

It was normal.

Until Robin burst in at the next stop.

"Everybody get out!" Robin called out, his voice carrying in the small space. His eyes scanned the subway car, cataloging how many people were in here.

Some people immediately got the message, getting off with no argument. Other people reluctantly got off, grumbling about their poor luck. You attempted to catch Dick's eye (not that you could see his eyes with the domino mask anyway), but he barely glanced at you.

You glanced at the older woman behind you, struggling to get up. Grabbing her purse, you offered her your arm for help. She offered you a quiet "Thank you" with a warm smile. You watched as most of the subway was evacuated, but now Robin was staring at you. He frowned. "You should get out of here." He walked over to you.

"I…" You glanced at the older woman, slowly standing up, then back to Robin.

He exhaled, clearly wanting to say something about that. Instead, his lips turned up slightly before becoming passive, "You out for my job?"

Your lips turned upward. "Sent my application to Batman a week ago. Heard it was pretty competitive though." Letting the old woman take your arm, Robin led as you escorted her out of the subway car.

Dick nodded, smirking, "Can confirm, also he doesn't pay well. It's practically charity work. If you're looking for a high-paying job, you might wanna look elsewhere." You laughed, helping the woman up the stairs to the exit. She even seemed to chuckle a bit at his comment.

You clicked your tongue, "What a shame. Benefits must be great though."

Dick shrugged, "They're alright." He smiled. Eventually, the three of you reached the top of the stairs.

You offered her purse back to her, "Thank you." She beamed at you before giving you both a knowing look, "It's quite sweet witnessing relationships form, it's cute." She pointed her fingers at both of you, her grin radiant.

You refused to glance at Dick for his reaction. Why would you even care? It's not like you care that an old woman thinks you two would be cute together. It's not like you'll be thinking about this comment forever. You refused to let yourself appear flustered, so you remained casual.

So, of course, you glanced at Dick– and damn it, when did you start calling "Robin" by his actual name in your head?

Dick laughed as if she had told a funny joke. "She wishes."

Yeah, you do.

"You're projecting, Robin." You retorted, making sure you did not reveal his identity.

The woman smirked at you before, slowly walking away.

"Not gonna escort her home? Thought you were out for my job? Not doing a very good job of it." Dick– Robin teased.

"Mmm, I don't think I want the Batman job anymore. Somebody told me that they don't pay very well." You shook your head disapprovingly.

Dick smirked, making his way back to the steps, about to enter the subway again. He stopped a couple of steps down to look up at you standing on the top step. "They sound wise." He nodded approvingly. "You probably wouldn't have gotten it anyway, y'know, only going after the salary and all that." He shrugged carelessly.

You smiled, falling into the familiar banter, "Guess we won't know until Batman reads my application."

He walked up the step, placing himself on the step just below you. He looked up at you, a smile on his face. His breath was visible in the air. You felt your heart rate pick up.

"I'll steal it off his desk before he gets the chance to read it. Don't worry." He spoke softly, teasingly. His words were low enough to be heard only by you. There wasn't anybody in the area, but you wouldn't have noticed if there were either way.

The cool fall breeze picked up his cape, billowing it in the wind. For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of the fabric flowing in the wind. You stared down at him, into the whites of his domino mask. You found yourself, once again, lamenting the fact that his eyes were covered. He was considerably more expressive without them.

You gasped exaggeratedly, "Rigging the competition like that?"

He chuckled, and you could feel the warmth of it. "Absolutely awful of me, I know."

You grinned at him before looking past him, down to where the abandoned subway car was. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what about…" You trailed off, gesturing to the subway car behind him.

Immediately, he turned around, "Shit," he cursed, before whipping back to face you. Almost as if asking for permission to go. You gave him a tired smile, "Go, Boy Wonder." You gestured for him to go.

He opened his mouth, "Sorry!" he frowned, before running down the stairs, "Stay around the area! I'll find you when I'm done!" He didn't await your response before going down.

You watched as he ran before eventually vanishing from view underground. You slowly put some distance between you and the subway. After all, if the bomb was down there, you did not want to be close to it.

After strolling into a dirty alley, you decided that it's far enough to be safe from an explosion, but close enough for Robin to find you.

So you waited.

Now that you've thought about it, how long did it take to disarm a bomb? You couldn't imagine it was a long process. Movies always make people do it in a time crunch. Wait, did you distract him by talking to him? Hopefully not. If you had, Robin had been dealing with bombs all day. He could probably disarm them pretty fast, right?

Then a deafening boom startled you.

Before you even processed whether it was safe to look, you put yourself out in the open to see what caused the explosion. You could only watch in horror as smoke started to crawl up from the subway station.

Dick was still there.

Batman would probably get him. After all, where you see one, the other wasn't very far behind.

The smoke clouded the entire exit, obscuring your view of anything near it. Dick had been talking to you earlier, and he didn't seem concerned about Batman showing up and seeing you. You saw ashes slowly permeate the air. Optimistically, you looked up, waiting for Batman to swoop down and go in and save Dick.

You looked up at the now muddy gray sky.

Batman wasn't coming.

Nobody knew Dick was down there.

Call it bravery, stupidity, maybe both, but you covered your mouth hoping that it would help prevent you from inhaling too much smoke. Running down the steps, you immediately felt the heat brush your skin uncomfortably.

"ROBIN!" You called out. Scrambling down the steps, you called out his name, hoping to see a hint of green. The subway car was now covered in burn marks along the outside, and you felt your heart drop as you ran to it. Soft coughing could be heard from inside.

"Fuck, fuck–" You entered without hesitation upon seeing Dick on the ground. He was hunched over, back leaning up against one of the seats. Half of his mask was gone, leaving one of his eyes visible. His costume was burned, scorch marks marring its normally bright colors, the ends of his capes frayed. His arms appeared to have the beginnings of burns on them. "Hey, hey, we gotta get you out of here." You rushed over to him, immediately slinging his arm around your shoulder.

He rasped your name, "I thought I told you to go." He coughed as you dragged him up, putting all of his weight on you. With the added weight, it made it difficult to move with haste, but you persisted.

"Yeah, well, I told you not to die." You both flinched as a flaming wooden blank dropped from the ceiling onto the ground, mere feet away from you.

"I don't actually think you told me that." His voice was quiet, weak.

"Semantics," you yelled out. Did he seriously want to argue about that now?

He grunted as you pushed him faster, "We're almost there." You whispered encouragingly, looking to the stairs ahead of you. He attempted to suck in air, wincing at the pain, but instead he inhaled smoke, causing another coughing fit.

"Almost there." You muttered, more to yourself as you reached the base of the stairs.

Slowly, the two of you climbed the stairs, and eventually you reached the top. You ushered him to that empty alley you had found. Once you reached it, he immediately collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily.

You should call somebody. Who? Batman? That would probably be the smart thing to do. He probably knows somebody who could get Dick medical attention.

"Do you have your phone?" You kneeled down next to Dick, who opened his eyes wearily, glancing down at a pocket on his utility belt. You reached for it, grabbing the small device, typing in the passcode you've seen him use. He never explicitly told you, but he's opened his phone numerous times in front of you.

You opened the contacts before seeing a single emergency contact: B.

With no hesitation, you called it, and the phone rang for less than a couple seconds before it was answered.

There were no greetings, just one question. "Are you hurt?" Bruce's voice cut in, strong, befitting of Batman, but clearly filled with worry.

You stood up, "Robin's alive. I was able to pull him out of the fire," you glanced at Dick, who was still breathing heavily, "but he's injured." You got straight to the point.

Bruce remained silent for a moment. "The subway?" Gone was the concern, replaced by the impassive, suspicious tone.

You nodded before forgetting you were on a phone call. "Yes, we're hidden in a small alley not too far from it." You looked up to see if anybody was nearby. You heard sirens nearby, but didn't see anybody.

"Stay there, we will talk once I arrive. Is he awake?"

"Yes, but he's burned. I think he's struggling to stay awake." You frowned, coughing as you watched Dick blink wearily.

"Don't let him fall asleep. We're on our way, don't hang up until we get there." He instructed, his tone was calm, controlled.

"Okay, I'm going to put you on speaker." You didn't get a response, so you placed the phone on speaker as you gently shook Dick, who coughed in response.

"Hey, Batman's on his way. I know you're tired, but you have to stay awake until he can get a look at you." You spoke softly.

Dick groaned, "He's gonna kill me." He rasped.

You snorted, a small smile gracing your face. Even injured, he still had enough energy to make you laugh. "Prettyyyy sure, he's trying to prevent that, but if he does, then we aren't going down without a fight."

Dick chuckled, before launching himself into another coughing fit, "Woah, okay, my bad. Try not to laugh either." You patted his back softly. He winced at the touch, and you immediately stopped, wincing a small apology.

He gave you a half-hearted glare before closing his eyes and sighing. "Thanks." He said softly, the words barely audible. "What you did was still incredibly stupid, though."

"Yeah, but you're alive, so you should be thanking me really."

"I did, and then I acknowledged your poor choices."

"Oh," you held your hands up in surrender, "sorry, very different."

He smirked softly, "Very."

Suddenly, a tall, broad figure appeared behind you, causing you to jump. Dick didn't even flinch.

Batman looked down at Dick on the ground, Batgirl close behind him. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise before saying your name, shock evident in her tone.

It felt as if the already quiet atmosphere went dead the moment she uttered your name.

Batman turned towards Batgirl briefly, giving Dick time to sling his arm around him. "You know her?" He looked down at you, and you smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. This was not how you wanted to meet Batman, if you were ever going to meet Batman.

"She's–" Batgirl began, and you attempted to shake your head subtly to Batgirl. Of course, that didn't go unnoticed by Batman. Her eyes flickered between you and Batman before nodding slowly. "I trust her…" She smiled faintly at you, "He trusts her." Batman gave her a long glance before turning toward you once again.

"You know," Batman stated. He spoke with a certainty that told you he was not asking.

You glanced towards Batgirl, a silent plea for help, but all she did was wince, mouthing an apology. "I…" You started slowly, unable to find the words. You eventually nodded, a silent confirmation.

Batman looked at you, and if you thought Dick was a tad difficult to read with the mask, Batman was impossible. Abruptly, he stood up, turning to Batgirl, "He will be fine, we'll have him looked at in the cave." Batgirl nodded as he walked over to the Batmobile, allowing Dick to get into the passenger seat. You glanced anxiously between the three of them before he started the car. Batgirl went to the backseat, and you assumed that was the end of the conversation, so you took a few steps away from the vehicle.

"Get in."

The words would probably have been awesome in any other circumstance, but all it did was fill you with dread. Reluctantly, you moved closer to the back doors and awkwardly shuffled inside.

The drive was quiet. Like uncomfortably quiet, and also way too quick. You didn't picture the first time visiting Wayne Manor to be under Batman-related circumstances.

Before you knew it, the Batmobile pulled into the Batcave (Dick said that's what it's called, if you remembered right). Dick had mentioned it a few times, saying you'd think it was impressive, but you never thought you'd get to see it. Even though he talked to you about being Robin, he wasn't the biggest fan of actively involving you in anything related to his secret identity.

You watched as Alfred– you're assuming it's Alfred, Dick mentioned him often– immediately took Dick aside, removing him from Batman's care. Thus, leaving you with Batman and Batgirl. You left the car, not even having the energy to admire the Batcave, your stomach turned with unease.

"You know him well." Batman walked over to your side, the two of you watching as Alfred took Dick away for examination.

"Yeah." You spoke quietly, afraid that any louder would worsen the situation.

"Hm," Batman grunted, "how long?"

"A little over a year?" Sorry, Dick, there's no way you're good enough to lie to Batman.

He nodded slowly, "So he told you our identities?"

You smile at the memory, "Not exactly."

"But you know? You figured it out?" He tugged his gauntlets off.

Your smile grew slightly wider, "Not exactly." You repeated.

Batman hesitantly removed his cowl, revealing the face of Bruce Wayne. "How so?" He sounded deceptively calm. You were unsure if him willingly unmasking himself was a good sign or not.

Explaining the story of how you met was easy. It was something that you and Dick reminisced about in later years. You both found it pretty funny in hindsight. You thought you did a good job retelling it because even Bruce's lips twitched upwards at times at your recount.

"And how did you 'figure out' our identities?" Bruce asked, glancing between you and Batgirl, who took off her mask.

"Didn't really have to, it was heavily implied. He never explicitly said it, but he would always talk about you." You shrugged.

Bruce nodded, "I see…" He crossed his arms. "Thank you for saving him. We'll have Alfred look over you once he's attended to Dick."

You blinked, "Oh–" you waved him off, "I'll be fine! Really. I was down there for less than a couple minutes."

"You can never be too safe. I insist, it's the least I could do. You saved his life." Bruce nodded resolutely.

You both went back and forth before eventually you relented, and let Alfred check over you. It took a little while, since Dick's needed a lot more care than you did, but eventually he looked over you. He was efficient and overly polite. Thankfully, he gave you the all clear.

About half an hour later, he let you go see Dick, and you and Babs went rushing to find him. Bruce followed behind you two.

Babs immediately went to his side, and you hesitated to approach him. You glanced at Bruce, surprised to see him already staring at you. He slightly tilted his head towards Dick, silent permission.

Babs and Dick were whispering softly to one another, with Babs glaring at him. You slowly made your way over to the other side of Dick's bed.

Dick placed his hand on Babs', muttering something quietly before he turned his focus on you.

He smiled softly, "Sorry about our deal."

You couldn't help but mirror his action, "To be fair, you didn't tell him."

Dick snapped his fingers, pointing at you, "True, so I guess that means I'm off the hook." He placed his hands on his lap, a smirk present on his face. "Sorry that this was your introduction, though. I can imagine it wasn't… pleasant." Dick glanced between you and Bruce, a silent question.

You shrugged, "It was fine. He's not as scary as I thought." Dick snorted as you sat on the stool next to the bed. "Just glad you're okay."

Dick placed his hand onto yours, grabbing it. He looked from your hand up to you, "And I have you to thank for that." His eyes were shining with gratitude.

–

To both of your and Dick's shock, Bruce (he insisted you call him that, and not "Mr. Wayne") did not mind you knowing. You two theorized that perhaps he knew the whole time, and that's why he was so unbothered by the "secret." Even more surprisingly, Bruce actually offered for you to visit the Manor whenever suitable. Dick found this extremely suspicious, but you thanked Bruce for the offer nonetheless.

Later that year, you ended up hearing some news.

While you knew Dick was off with the Titans, what you didn't expect to hear was him dating Starfire. You thought Babs was the most likely candidate, but apparently, you were wrong. By the time you heard he was in the area again, you were off at college. It had started taking up most of your time, and while you occasionally went to hang out with Babs, the days of you and Robin had come to a close. Truthfully, it was probably best that you were gone for college. It gave you time to get over Dick. At first, it was a struggle, but over time, it hurt less and less. Now, you barely think about it.

By the time you had returned, years later, everything had changed.

Babs had immediately invited you to the Manor upon hearing your return, and you had accepted gladly. She did warn you that there would be a lot of new people there. You figured, seeing as you had heard mentions of new vigilantes popping up throughout the years.

The drive to the Manor was somewhat familiar, and upon entry. You had heard of her incident with the Joker, but from what you heard, she had undergone surgery that allowed her to walk again. When you arrived at the Manor, Babs was there to greet you. She said that she wanted to make sure you saw a familiar face upon entry, which you vastly appreciated.

Heading down to the Batcave, you were surprised by how many people were there. Most of them accepted you, especially after Babs explained her history with you. Their new, constant presence in your life led to you becoming a regular at the Manor. The first people you initially met were Steph and Damian. They were down in the Batcave when you met. Steph was incredibly welcoming, and she seemed excited at the prospect of a new face. Damian was a lot more skeptical, but eventually you earned his respect (at least you think). It took months, but he didn't glare in distrust when you entered a room anymore, as if assessing a threat, and you took that as a win.

Soon after you met Cass, Duke, and Tim. All of whom were kind to you. Cass wasn't very vocal, but she expressed interest in hanging out with you, Steph, and Babs. The four of you decided to plan something later that weekend. After that, it became tradition for the four of you to spend at least a couple of weekends of the month together. Duke was typically out during the mornings, so you didn't see him too often, but he was always nice to you.

Tim was… interesting.

When you first met, his eyes raised with what looked like recognition. You found that strange, considering you had never met him. A few months after meeting him, you decided to ask him how he recognized you.

Tim frowned, "I never said that I recognized you?"

You raised an eyebrow. Perhaps you overthought his initial reaction? "Oh," you spin around in your swivel chair, "I just thought that… I don't know." You slowed your spinning. "You looked as if you had recognized me when we first met."

Tim blinked, tapping his finger on the desk in front of him. "I mean, we hadn't met, but I saw pictures of you." He shrugged casually.

You stopped spinning, "What?"

Tim took his attention off the screen and onto you, "Yeah, Dick has some pictures in his old room."

You blinked, feeling fondness rise in your chest, "Dick had pictures of us in his room?"

"Mm... has." Tim crossed one leg over the other in his chair. "They're still there, I think."

"So you snooped." You scooted the swivel chair closer to him.

Tim frowned, tilting his head, "To be fair, he invited me in first. He had them on full display."

You chuckled, smiling at the thought of Dick keeping old photos of you both.

Tim eyed you oddly, opening his mouth as if to say something, but closing it and turning back to the screen.

"What was that?" You raised an eyebrow, leaning on the desk next to him.

"What was what?" Tim continued to type, not sparing a glance.

"What'd you want to say?" You pointed to him, a pen in your hand.

"Nothing important."

"Well, if it's nothing important…" You spun the pen casually in your finger, "Then you won't mind telling me." You leaned onto his desk, catching his attention. He blinked at you, mouth open for a moment.

"I'm…" He glanced around the Batcave, craning his neck around the monitors to see if anybody was here. "I'm not sure it's any of my business."

You tilted your head, "Well, now I'm curious."

He pursed his lips, glancing between you and the screen, finally turning to face you. "Did you and Dick ever date?"

A wave of… something came over you, your lips parting in surprise.

"What?" You smiled, still processing the question.

Tim's eyebrows furrowed, unimpressed, "See, this is why I didn't ask." He turned to face the screen again.

You closed your mouth, looking down at the ground. "No, no, I was just surprised. I'm just surprised he never cleared that up. We never dated."

Tim glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "Never?"

You didn't meet his glance, "Never."

Tim typed in silence for a moment, "Did you ever…" He turned slightly to gauge your reaction.

"He never liked me." You gave Tim a non-answer, neither confirming nor denying you ever liked him.

Tim fully turned to you at your words, "Never?"

"Never." You repeated back.

Tim's mouth was now wide open, eyebrows downturned in disbelief. The expression eliciting a chuckle out of you. "It's not that surprising."

"It… It kinda is, though. I assumed you two broke up before he got with Kori."

"We were never together. Truthfully," you glanced around again, after all, you did not want this to be heard, "I was surprised he hadn't gotten with Babs."

"Oh…" Tim nodded slowly, frowning, "But he did?"

Sorry, what?

"What?" You stared at him, mouth agape.

"Oh my…" He ran a hand through his hair, "You didn't know…"

"I never even heard about it!" You whisper-yelled, leaning forward.

Tim held his hands up in surrender, moving slightly away from you. "I thought you knew."

"She neglected to mention that."

"Well, yeah, that's because they broke up not too long ago. I figured she told you." You opened your mouth to retort, but he spoke again, "I can see I was wrong."

You spaced out, staring at the screen that Tim had pulled up. He was looking up some missing person case. "You never really answered the question I asked." He continued to stare at you, ignoring the screen.

"Remind me what you asked again?" You didn't take your eyes off the screen, staring straight through it, still processing the revelation he dropped on you.

"Did you ever…" he tilted his head down slightly, his voice becoming quieter, "like him?"

"You technically didn't ask." You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes.

"It was implied, and I know you understood what I was asking."

"Then you can probably infer the answer to that question based on how I responded." You stood up. Tim frowned, his eyes looking down at the ground. "I moved on anyway. It doesn't matter." You waved him off, patting him on the shoulder.

You were about to walk off when he said something, "For what it's worth, he missed you."

You turned to face him, his downcast eyes flickering up to meet your own. You offered him a smile. "I missed him, too."

-

Those past conversations and interactions are ingrained in your memory, even if at times you wished they weren't. You never regretted befriending Dick, and you still don't. It's just been so long. He claimed to have missed you? Even if you are just friends, why did he never reach out?

To be fair, you didn't reach out, but you figured he was always busy. You couldn't imagine that he has a lot of free time.

Even months after returning, you still haven't seen him. You knew that he operated in Blüdhaven as Nightwing, so you didn't expect to see him immediately once you returned. However, months passed, and you hadn't heard a word from him. Perhaps you should contact him? Perhaps he didn't know you were back? Would he have heard by now? Or maybe he just didn't care?

You may not like him like that anymore, but you reminisced on your friendship fondly. Hell, even Babs kept in close contact with you. He would contact you while you were gone, but it was always fleeting. Every time you tried, suddenly he'd have to go fight crime or whatever he was doing. You didn't blame him. You weren't that prideful as to assume that he prioritized you over the city.

Either way, it doesn't matter too much. It's unfortunate, but you've moved on in life. You're practically closer to his entire family than you are to him as of recent times. It's been years since you've really talked with him. What if he's different? Either way, call it pettiness, fear of change, or pride, but you hadn't made the choice to contact him either. Inevitably, you'd run into him eventually. It's probably good that you got at least a couple of months to understand what goes on at the Manor anyway.

During those first couple of months, you had met the majority of his family. The only one you hadn't really met was Jason. You knew that he had apparently died (because that's a thing now), and that he was Red Hood. That was about the extent of your knowledge.

You had met him by complete accident.

-

Spinning in the swivel chair, you checked your phone, waiting to see if Duke responded to your text. You knew he was out on patrol, but Babs had been trying to get in contact with him the night before, and he still hadn't responded to her. She asked if you could debrief him in the cave about what she found regarding a case about the Riddler. While you weren't really a part of their "team," Babs would often ask small favors of you, this being one of them. You didn't mind, because it showed that she trusted you. You felt proud that she entrusted you with such vital information.

When a motorcycle rolled in, you turned your chair to face it. "Oh, good, you did get my message. I honestly thought you were ignoring me–"

You watched as the Red Hood got off his bike before turning to you.

"You… are not Duke." You pursed your lips, clicking your tongue.

"Astute observation." Red Hood responded, voice modulator masking his real voice.

You stood up, heading over to introduce yourself. You had heard that Jason could be a little volatile, but you knew he wouldn't attack you unprovoked. "I'm–"

Red Hood cut you off, saying your full name. Did he really have to pull the first and last names out? Isn't that a bit much? "I know." He walked past you, ignoring your outreached hand.

You smiled at where he was, betraying your annoyance. "Alright then, Jason Todd." You spoke in his opposite direction before turning to face him. If he's gonna pull the full name, then you'll do the same.

He paused his stride, turning to meet your eyes. You smiled at him.

He took off his helmet; well, that was fast. He ran his fingers through some loose strands of hair, and you got your first look at him. His hair was disheveled from the helmet, with a white streak in the front. He looked at you, not mad, but clearly unimpressed by you mimicking his tactic.

"Do you always call people by their full name?" You asked, placing your hands behind you onto a desk, leaning back onto it.

"Since when were you here?" He ignored your question, kinda rude.

"Eh, a couple months, give or take. Why?" You shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow, "And Dick doesn't know?"

You shrugged, "I dunno. Probably not."

"Hm," he grunted before walking off.

You blinked, "Why? Is that surprising?" You followed him down some steps.

He turned to face you, appearing slightly annoyed that you seemed set on following him.

"A little. Thought you two were besties or somethin'." He continued to walk past you, heading over to an old storage room.

You frowned, "I don't think we ever referred to each other as 'besties.'" You did air quotes, despite the fact that Jason wasn't looking at you.

"Okay, I thought you two were 'not-besties' then." He mocked your air quotes, huh, maybe he was paying attention.

"What're you here for anyway?" You asked.

Jason opened the door, waving the dust away with his hand. "He never mentioned that you were this talkative." He muttered under his breath.

"Must've not mentioned me a lot then." You followed behind him, scrunching your nose as the musty scent pervaded your nose

Jason snorted as if you told a funny joke, "Mm, never." His tone was blatantly sarcastic.

You placed your hand on your chest in mock hurt, "You could at least soften the blow."

He gave you an odd look. "You two are so dramatic."

"We share a middle name."

He smirked, but it quickly vanished.

"You know I'm surprised you're here. You were the only one I hadn't been introduced to." You followed him into the room, looking into one of the old boxes, finding a collection of old medical textbooks.

"That's nice," Jason replied distractedly.

"You know, this conversation feels really one-sided." You gestured between you two.

Jason gave you an exaggeratedly dumbfounded expression, "What could've possibly given you that impression?"

You walked closer behind him, trying to see what he was looking for. He used his body to cover whatever was in front of him. "The lack of any thoughtful responses, probably, and the pointed glares."

He exhaled, the action almost making him seem amused. "You're funnier than I expected."

You raised an eyebrow, "Wow, okay… so you didn't expect me to be funny?"

"Not really," he reaches into one box, "hold this real quick." He placed a relatively large box in your hands. You instinctively held your hands out, not wanting the box to fall onto the ground.

"I'll try not to take offense to that." You shifted the box in your arms.

"Thought you'd be about as funny as he is." Jason didn't spare you a glance as he continued searching.

"He can be funny." You tried defending Dick. Jason fully stopped, turning toward you, his jacket covered in a light layer of dust, eyebrow raised.

"... On occasion." You relented, looking off to the side.

Jason snorted, going back to the box.

You sat there in silence for a moment longer, tapping your finger against the box as Jason searched the various boxes in the room.

"Y'know, something tells me whatever you're looking for isn't here." You looked over the large box, seeing Jason standing over six emptied boxes, various trinkets scattered around. Ranging from small knives to Batarangs. You hadn't been in this room before, and you aren't too surprised to see it's seemingly dedicated to weapons.

Jason gave a long exhale, "Wow, with those observational skills, you might be putting Batman out of business."

You smiled, "Hm, well, I was looking for a promotion. Think I'd be good?"

Jason turned towards you, the corners of his lips twitching, "Oh yeah, perfect."

"Is that sarcasm I sense, Jason Todd?" You opened your mouth in mock surprise, shaking your head in disapproval. You're never going to let go of the fact that he decided that the best way to address you was your full name.

Jason shook his head gravely, "From me? Never," he addressed you by your full name.

You exhaled in relief, "Good, I was worried that you weren't taking me seriously."

Jason walked over to you, holding his hands out for the box, and you transferred it to his hands. Both of your hands lingered on the dusted cardboard. "Of course, I am. I look forward to seeing you replace Batman."

You grinned, looking into his eyes. They look to be mostly blue, but they have a touch of green in them that seems almost unnatural. The colors blend together nicely, though, almost creating a teal. "Thanks for the support in my endeavor."

Jason rolled his eyes, but you could tell he found the situation amusing, "Yeah, don't mention it."

"Who left–"

Both you and Jason jolt, you more than Jason. You let go of the box in shock, leaving Jason to casually hold up the box as if it weighed nothing.

"You?" Duke raised an eyebrow at Jason.

"Me." Jason deadpanned, walking past Duke and heading back to his bike.

"Since when were you two pals?" Duke asked, gesturing between the two of you.

"We aren't," Jason said. At the same time, you said, "About five minutes ago."

"Huh," Duke blinked, before shrugging. "You planning on staying?" He asked Jason.

"Nope." Jason placed the box down on a desk near his bike, grabbed his helmet, and put it on.

"Oh." Duke looked between the two of you. Shrugging, you grabbed the box before walking over to Jason's bike.

"How do you plan on driving with an open box?" You flicked one of the flaps of the box.

Jason held his hands out expectantly, and you placed it into his hands (not dropping it this time). "Don't worry about it."

"That's reassuring." You nodded.

He didn't respond, but you liked to imagine he at least found some amusement in the comment. He revved his bike before driving off.

"Huh, haven't seen him in a while." Duke walked up next to you, placing his hands on his hips.

"Haven't seen him, period." You crossed your arms.

"Hm," he hummed, "anyway, what was it you needed? Babs sent me a very vague, kindly worded message earlier today." He nudged you with his elbow.

"Lovely," you smiled before noticing a glint of metal from the corner of your eyes. You walked over it, picking up a wrench and… you aren't sure what the second item is, some gadget, definitely the fancy Batman kind. You looked up to where Jason left. The items were left suspiciously close to where he took off. They probably fell out of the box the second he took off.

You huffed, heading back towards the screen. Duke was waiting, tapping his finger on the desk, raising an eyebrow.

You told Jason the box was open.

-

"Don't punch with your thumbs underneath your fingers." Steph corrects, grabbing your thumbs as she fixes them to the outside of your fist. "You'll break them like that, and trust me when I say that isn't fun."

You nod, "Noted." You get into position, waiting for her to put the punching mitts again before raising your hands again. Ever since Babs introduced you to the rest of the Waynes (and Wayne adjacents), you had become determined to learn at least basic self-defense. You may not be doing backflips off of buildings anytime soon, but you might as well learn from the best since you are best friends with superheroes.

"That was good! Make sure you keep your feet light, fights often aren't planted in one spot. You're going to be moving, you want to make sure you are ready to move if you need to." Steph nods encouragingly.

Cass, at her left, moves forward to your form, "Tense." She taps your shoulder lightly, making you instinctively relax. Once you relax, she nods, moving back out of the way.

Punching the mitts again, you huff out as Steph attempts to juke you out. You parry her jab, using your non-dominant arm to push it away from your body, and use your other arm to strike her. She jolts at the punch, but smiles soon after. "That was good!" She puts the mitts down, "Let's take a break." You exhale, breathing heavily, nodding.

Sitting on the ground, you catch the water bottle that Steph throws at you. "So, what made you decide to start training?" Steph asks, grabbing her own bottle and chugging the water.

"I figured that, living in Gotham, I should probably learn some self-defense. Who better than you two to teach me?" You smiled at them, wiping sweat off your forehead.

Steph smirks, "Well, it's an honor to teach you." She plops down next to you, Cass following suit. "You know," she tapped her knees, "I'm surprised Dick never taught you anything."

You smiled, "He never wanted me involved in any 'Batman stuff.'" You stuck your fingers up, mocking the Batman ears.

Cass chuckles softly as Steph opens her mouth incredulously. "Really?" She took another sip of water. "Imagine how he would react seeing us teach you then."

You snort, "I don't think he knows I'm even here."

Cass tilts her head, "You contact him?" She asks.

You shake your head, "He's always busy. Wouldn't wanna bother him."

Cass and Steph share a look, "Does he even know you're back?" Steph asks slowly, as if the question would be offensive.

You shrug, "I don't know, maybe?" You don't really want to know the answer. At this point, you know you're avoiding him. It'd be strange seeing your old crush after so many years.

Steph purses her lips, "Do you want to contact him?"

You turn to face her, looking between her and Cass. "I guess? I just… I don't know, he must be busy in Blüdhaven. I figured he'd visit when he has the time."

Steph looks at you, giving you the exact same look Tim gave you weeks ago.

"I know that look," you smile humorlessly.

Steph blinks, looking towards Cass, who smiles, "What look?"

"Tim gave me the same look a couple of weeks ago." You take a sip of water. "I'm not that pitiful."

Cass frowns, Steph puts her water bottle down, "It's more understanding than pity."

You hummed, glancing out of the corner of your eye to see them both looking expectantly. "You can ask, you don't have to walk on eggshells with me about him."

Steph laughs, but quickly stops, taking a nervous sip of water. "Did you ever date him?"

You exhale amused, turning to face her and Cass, "You know you're the second person to ask me that this month."

"To be fair, he's pretty vague on what exactly your 'relationship' was." Steph scratches her neck.

You chuckle, "No. We never dated." You tap your foot on the ground slowly.

"But you liked him?" Cass asked, tilting her head towards you.

You looked up at her and smiled sadly, "Once."

You hear clothing rustling distantly, "What happened?" Cass asks.

You shrug, "Different lives. I knew he never liked me back."

Steph scoots closer to you, her eyes flickering off somewhere for a brief moment. "Did you ever tell him?"

You shake your head, "Nope." You pop the 'p'.

"Do you want to tell him?" She persists.

You choke on your water, "Oh, hell no." You wipe your mouth. "It was a long time ago. I moved on years ago."

Steph smiled forlornly, "So you're never gonna tell him?" Cass looked off at something in the distance.

"Taking it to the grave." You exhale, amused, bringing the water bottle back to your lips.

–

Tim was in his room, laptop in bed, minding his own business. While a laptop may not be the most advanced piece of technology at his disposal, it did the job. He was scrolling through some recent news about the Riddler getting caught, again, when his door was thrown open.

"You." Dick points at Tim, accusingly.

Tim looks up from the screen on his lap, "Hello? When..." He looks down at Dick's outfit, still in outside clothes, "Did you just get here?"

"You knew." Dick walks over to the foot of his bed, glaring at him.

Tim pushes his laptop lid slightly down, leaving it ajar. "You're… going to have to be a lot more specific." He looks up at Dick.

Dick says your name.

"Oh," Tim blinks, "that."

"Yeah," Dick huffs, "that."

Tim fully closes his laptop, setting it aside. "Okay, in my defense, I thought you two had already dated in the past."

Dick sputters, sitting at the edge of Tim's bed, leaning down, eyes downcast at the polished wooden floor. "Well, we haven't."

Tim nods, "Yeah, kinda got that impression." He pushes the blankets off of him, moving to sit next to Dick. "If it makes you feel better, she moved on."

Dick snaps his gaze upward to Tim. "She did..?" He sits up straight, "When?"

Tim shrugs, "I don't know. She just told me that she moved on."

Dick deflates, "She never told me…"

"I can tell," Tim nods. Dick sends him a sharp glare, but then leans over, his elbows resting on his knees, to rub his temples. "It's not your fault. You couldn't have known." Tim attempts to smile at his older brother. "Look on the bright side, she doesn't like you like that anymore. Consider the friendship preserved."

Somehow, that makes Dick look even more distraught.

"How'd I miss it though? There must've been signs." Dick clasps his hands together on his lap.

Tim nods, "Probably," he puts a hand on Dick's shoulder, "but it's past now. She's cool with just being friends now." He attempts to comfort Dick.

Dick looks down at his hands, "Did she tell you that?"

"Well, no, but it's been– what– years since you two last talked in person? She's probably cool with just being friends, seeing as she said she moved on, kinda what 'moving on' is." Tim looks down at Dick, hunched over. "How'd you find out about it anyway?"

"Overheard her, Steph, and Cass talking," Dick answers, strangely apathetic.

"Eavesdropping?" Tim shakes his head disapprovingly, knowing he'd do the exact same thing if he was in Dick's place.

"I didn't even know she was back. She didn't tell me." Dick looks up at Tim. Seeing you down there had been a mixture of shock and excitement, quickly followed by a sharp sting of pain. When did you meet Steph and Cass? When did you meet everyone? Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you text him? Call him?

He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but you answered those questions for him.

Steph had asked if you wanted to contact him. Dick was going to reveal himself, but he waited, for he wanted to hear your response.

You said he was "busy," and that you "didn't want to bother him." Didn't you know that if you had just told him you were there, he would've come back to the Manor within the hour? He knew that contact had been seldom, but he still considered you one of his closest friends. You were there during some of his earlier days as Robin. The first person besides Bruce who knew, regardless of whether it was an accident or not.

After hearing that, he told himself that he would pretend that he hadn't heard the conversation when he revealed himself. However, he never got that far.

Cass asked one question, and somehow that entire question has him rethinking everything he thought he understood:

"But you liked him?"

At first, he found the question absurd; he would've known. You would've said something.

"Once."

Once. Possibly the most conflicting answer you could've given. Once, implies not anymore. Once implies something had changed. Once implies that you no longer liked him like that.

After all, didn't you move on?

How did you move on before he ever got to know?

What would he have done if you told him? He never liked you like that, but he would've still respected you as a friend. Nothing would've changed. He could've still talked to you about being Robin. He still could've had you make up silly excuses for him to skip school with. He still would've pulled you out to your guys' spot at the library to spend time together. Even if he never liked you like that, he wouldn't have treated you any differently.

He fidgets with his hands, looking up at the wall in front of him, almost staring through it.

Why didn't you tell him?

> Dick Grayson Ending

You haven't been to Los Angeles in... forever. Yet the California sun is still as hot as you remember.

"Well, this place still looks like a dump." Ben muttered as he walked next to you, boots crunching on gravel. "Just... shinier." His head tilted up to take a look at Mr. Marathon's luxurious home—too white and too big for a washed-up B-lister like him. Being in the Seven for a few years really did him a favor, it seemed.

You snorted. "You say that about every city."

"Because every fuckin' city is a dump." He grumbled, before lowering his voice. "Last time we came here was in—what, '81?" He bumped his shoulder into yours intentionally, and Homelander—who was walking a step behind and looking like a sulking kid following behind his father (which, fair enough)—had to suppress a sigh.

"Almost, '82." You corrected, climbing up the stairs to the front door.

You’d known Ben for decades now. Seen the kid with daddy issues playing macho man after his first shot of V1 until he became America's number one tool for war propaganda—and everything in between.

"We were supposed to come back in '84 for the Olympics but... y'know. Had to go alone." You casually brought up his betrayal and alleged death—just a couple months before your actual last trip to LA.

"Very touching." Homelander said flatly before Ben could reply to you, reaching over your shoulder to ring the doorbell with impatience.

The door opened shortly after, Mr. Marathon's jaw going slack as he took in the three famous faces standing at his door. "Oh my—holy shit." He opened the door wider, ushering you in. "Come in, come in."

The interior was just as white and detestable as the exterior, and you couldn't help but make a face when you saw the guy's self-portait hanging in the entrance.

"Homelander, it is really, uh... really—good to see you!" He stammered, vibrating with both excitement and anxiety. "W—what brings you by?"

"Relax, we're just here to talk."

"Yeah! Great, awesome—" His gaze drifted to Ben, one hand vaguely gesturing towards him. "Soldier Boy—wow, big fan, sir. I actually, uh, popped my cherry in your Underoos."

Ben was about to dismiss this awful conversation when Mr. Marathon spoke up again with renewed excitement, his gaze turning to you.

"And—you!" He exclaimed with a breathy chuckle of amazement. "God, i definitely rubbed one out to your Playboy bunny shoots more times than i can count—the pages were stuck together, i had to find another copy."

Silence.

Long, horrible, awkward silence.

Homelander looked like he was considering just lasering the place to pieces.

"...Shoots?" Ben was the first to break it, eyes narrowing at Mr. Marathon and tilting his head like he'd heard wrong. "What shoots?" His eyes then snapped towards you with not-so-subtle interest. "Playboy?"

"Ben—"

"Since when the hell were you doing Playboy?" He finally asked with a confused shrug, struggling to believe he could've missed something as juicy as this.

"Since you were busy snorting half of Nicaragua and never came back." You shrugged back, but the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn't about to let you brush this off. "It was the eighties! You did your fair share of stupid shit, too!"

He gave you a once over, completely ignoring your point. "...Full nude?" He asked shamelessly, raising a brow at you.

"Of course not!"

"They still out there?" He ignored your whining as well, already turning back towards Mr. Marathon.

"Seriously?" You deadpanned.

"Well—i might still have a... clean copy."

───

Mr. Marathon was still bleeding out on the marble floor, head crushed to pieces when Ben bent down with a grunt, plucking something glossy from under the rubble.

"No fuckin' way. He does have a copy." He muttered, thumb rubbing the dust off the magazine cover.

There you are.

Curled up on a loveseat in a black satin teddy and ridiculous bunny ears, one heel dangling off your foot while you smiled at the camera like there wasn't a single thought behind those eyes. Big hair, dramatic makeup, and a fluffy white tail to top it all off.

America's Sweetheart Finally Lets Loose!

"Oh god, burn it." You gritted your teeth in disgust, glaring at the magazine like it could bite.

"Fuck no, this is gold."

Homelander made a sound somewhere between disgust and exhaustion. "Can we focus?"

"You're insufferable." You grumbled, ignoring Homelander's complaining.

"And you were apparently more flexible than i remember." He clicked his tongue approvingly. "Jesus."

He stopped on a certain page that made him grin like a kid on Christmas Day. "Oh, now this—" He let out a low whistle. "Damn."

You lunged for it instantly. "Give me that!"

He jerked the magazine out of reach effortlessly, laughing as you smacked uselessly at his arm. "No no no, hold on—" His eyes flicked over a full-page spread. "You said no full nude."

"It's not full nude!"

"There is one ribbon covering your tits."

"That doesn't count."

"Kinda does, though."

Homelander stared straight ahead with the thousand-yard look of a man questioning every life decision that had led him here, his facial tics starting to act up.

Ben kept grinning as he finally lowered the magazine enough to look at you properly, and there it was—that smug, annoyingly entertained look that always riled you up.

"Can't believe every asshole in America got to see this before me."

Homelander finally snapped. "Are you two done flirting over a dead body?"

───

"You bought this?"

"Yeah."

You stood in your room back at Vought Tower, Ben at your side with his chest puffed out and an infuriatingly proud grin on his pretty face.

He'd been pounding on your door five minutes ago, insisting that this was an emergency—before dropping a package on your mattress and demanding you open it.

You regretted it the moment you ripped the carboard open and caught a glimpse of black, shiny fabric.

"How did you even—"

"Spent three fuckin' hours figuring out that... that jungle website." Ben shrugged with an edge of frustration.

"Wha—Amazon?" You let out a huff of a laugh, the very entertaining image of him grumbling and cursing at a screen for three hours straight popping in your mind.

"Yeah, whatever. Site kept askin' me about cookies or some shit."

"You learned online shopping for this?" You huffed in disbelief, carefully digging through the plastic bag to pull out the costume, staring down at it with conflict—and maybe a bit of pink on your cheeks.

Fighting the internet just to see you in a skimpy bunny suit was actually pretty romantic, by Ben's standards.

"Won't you put it on, sweetheart?" He leaned towards you, hand reaching to grope the meat of your ass and head ducking down until his hot breath hit the shell of your ear. "Figure if every Tom, Dick, and Harry got the photoshoot, i oughta at least get the sequel."

You folded, eventually.

And you realized you'd rarely seen Ben this invested.

Took you in his arms the moment you walked out, changed in this bunny suit—that you insisted was stupid and raunchy—hands all over your curves and squeezing flesh like he had to make sure this was real. They slid down to your waist again, pinching the soft skin through the satin fabric appreciatively.

"Stop making that face. Smile a little, bun." He teased, amused by how commited you were to looking annoyed despite how red your ears were turning. He could feel your body burning under his palms, flushed and squirming.

"This is not funny."

"Yeah? I think it's hilarious." He retorted, flicking the white fluffy tail on your lower back and tugging at the ears on your head just to rile you up some more. You were about to protest like you always did when he interrupted you, lips crashing hungrily against yours while he pulled you closer until there wasn't an inch left between your bodies.

You squirmed without much conviction when he steered you towards his bed, the empty package falling to the floor as he pushed it off carelessly and sat down on the edge, pulling you onto his lap.

"You're such a pretty bunny, i might just fuck you like one." He purred, gripping your thighs to keep you still. "Wouldn't you like that?"

The grumpy but slightly shaky whine you let out told him everything he needed to know. You're still embarrassed, but so damn into it—and it's exactly what he wants.

One finger hooked into the collar of your bowtie, pulling you in for another rough kiss just to draw more of those adorable grumbles out of you. He was as mean as you remembered, always trying to dominate with his tongue and biting on your lower lip whenever he didn't get his way.

His other hand slid to your hipbone, urging you to grind against him and guiding your movements while his own hips thrust up, the hard line of his erection rubbing deliciously against your clothed slit. He reached for your chest to caress one breast possessively, grunting at the way you arched your back and pressed further into his palm whenever he pinched your nipple through the fabric.

"Gettin' all excited just from a little rubbin'." He murmured against your lips teasingly as he felt you grind harder on your own, chasing more of that sweet friction as your heart pounded through your ribcage and against his hand. "C'mere, bun."

He never stopped kissing you as he maneuvered you onto the mattress, switching your positions until he hovered above you, forearms braced on each side of your head to avoid crushing you under his weight—not that you'd mind. He only pulled back to take you in, from your flushed cheeks to the way the satin strained against your curves. So vulnerable—and fucking delicious.

"Look at you," He muttered, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly rumble. "All red and pouty. Actin' like you didn't want this the second you saw the damn box."

He trailed kisses down your neck, leaving harsh bites and hickeys on the way to your collarbone until he nuzzled his nose into your cleavage—leaving one last open-mouthed kiss on your sternum.

"Roll over." He ordered with a nudge to your thigh with his knee.

"Really?"

"What, you ever seen bunnies go at it in missionary, smartass? Ass up." He didn't wait for you to move, manhandling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips up, bunny ears tilting forward as his fingers tangled in your hair to keep your face down. He hooked his thumb into the crotch of the teddy to pull it to the side followed by a sharp tearing sound that made you jump, mesh snapping to form a jagged hole in your fishnets as he ripped it apart.

"Fuck," He hissed at the sight of your dripping pussy, pink and puffy under that bush of yours he loved so much. "You kept bitchin' all night, but look at that. Little bunny's soaked, just waiting for the big bad wolf to tear her apart." He let out a condescending chuckle, thumb swiping through your folds as he spread your cheeks apart. He relished the way you shuddered and let your head fall forward into the sheets, whimpering softly.

"Pathetic." He snorted, two fingers abruptly breaching past your ring of muscle—earning himself a surprised little yelp. "All tight and snug." He commented, digits already curling and scissoring inside of you while his free hand tugged his pants off, his hard cock springing free from its confines.

"Hnn, Ben—" You couldn't help but whimper as he scratched that spongy spot along your walls, voice muffled against the comforter.

"Yeah, yeah. Stop complainin', you're gonna get it." He scoffed, fingers sliding out of your pussy with a wet squelch. He watched you clench around nothing at the sudden feeling of emptiness, wordlessly begging to be filled. "You gonna be good?" He asked, one hand sliding up your spine to tangle with the hair at your nape, fisting his cock with the other to press the blunt head of it against your slick folds.

"Yes," You nodded frantically, hips twitching with need. "Please, Ben—"

"Please what?" God, you could still hear that infuriating smirk in his voice.

"Please, ngh—fuck my pussy..."

"Atta girl."

He buried himself in one harsh thrust, savoring that desperate cry you let out—something between a moan and a sob that made his dick twitch inside you.

"You like that? You like being stuffed full, bunny?" He drawled mockingly, pelvis pressing against your ass in a deep grind that made you whimper some more. He leaned down until his chest pressed against your back, body blanketing your smaller form.

"Yeah... you love takin' my big fuckin' cock. Always have." He pulled out just enough to make you whine, before slamming back inside you over and over again, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your pathetic, muffled cries filling the room.

"Good girl. Good bun..." He grunted appreciatively against the side of your neck, hand sliding from your nape to grip your jaw and lift your head just enough to catch a glimpse of that flushed face and those glazed over, teary eyes.

"T—too much—" You choked out, each thrust making your body jolt forward.

"Aww, really?" He cut you off by squeezing your cheeks with his fingers a few times, thumb and index finger digging into the squishy flesh—like you were nothing but a cute pet. "Can't handle it, sweetheart?" His movements stopped abruptly, leaving you whining and squirming at the sudden loss of friction.

"You either take it all, or get nothin' at all. And judgin' by the way your legs are kickin' for more right now, i reckon you prefer the first option." He chuckled cruelly, his free hand kneading your hip. "So, are you gonna take it or not?"

You nodded desperately, chin pressing into his palm. "No no, use your words." He nuzzled further into your neck, his beard scratching against your shoulder.

"Mmn—i'll be good... i—i'll take your cock, please—" You barely had the time to beg that he was already hammering into you again, thrusts shallow but hard, balls slapping against your sensitive mound.

"Yeah you will," He grunted while you choked on your own moans and saliva, his grip on your hip tightening bruisingly. "Like the good little bunny you are."

He didn't slow down when he felt your walls tighten and your moans turning into shaky wails, pounding into you until you finally came, gushing around him with a throaty, almost inhumane sob.

"Good fuckin' girl, cummin' so hard on this fat cock—" He felt that familiar heat pool in his gut, thrusts turning sloppy and slightly uncoordinated. "I'm almost there, sweetheart—you can take it."

He came with a roar, hips flush against yours as he spilled himself as deep in you as possible, holding himself there until he was empty. "Fuck—nghh, fuck..."

Your knees gave out the moment he pulled out, goosebumps rising on your skin when you felt your pussy drool with his hot, thick release. The mattress dipped next to you as he let himself collapse, one arm sliding between your waist and the sheets to pull you closer.

"C'mere." He panted, reaching to take those ridiculous ears off your head. A miracle that they stayed on the whole time. "Let's get you out of this, hm?"

He fumbled with the buttons on the cuffs, pulled the zipper down your back and tugged the torn fishnets down your legs—until you laid bare and dazed.