Title: Dilate in spirit Fandom: DCU (post-Infinite Crisis, spoilers to IC#4/NW #116) Summary: The voices in his ear are the same as ever, though here, in this city, he can't quite stop himself from responding to any call beginning with "Robin." Pairing: Bruce/Dick Rating: All ages Notes: This story will doubtless be Jossed to the highest degree. For Mael. It's the end of the world, except it isn't. Blüdhaven is going to glow in the dark for the next extremely long time period, except that most radioactive things don't actually glow. Gotham is familiar -- how could it not be after ten years of working its streets? -- but it's not the same. Sometimes it seems cleaner. The cops. The Spectre and the cops. Not that Nightwing tangles with either. His beat is comfortably up on the rooftops, dipping into the occasional alley -- new dirt, new gang tags, same Gotham. The voices in his ear are the same as ever, though here, in this city, he can't quite stop himself from responding to any call beginning with "Robin." "N," Batman says, "meet me at WE at 2330." "Ten-four," Nightwing says, and heads for the rendezvous. No point in asking why; he knows how to take orders almost as well as he knows how to give them. When they meet, Batman offers him a water bottle before anything else. "Don't --" "Get dehydrated," Nightwing says, and grins at him. "I've heard that speech. I've given you that speech." "Don't forget to eat, too," Batman says, and he offers a protein bar. Nightwing shakes his head, laughing quietly. "I know. I know how to take care of myself," he says, and adds, "Bruce," very quietly. "We've all been distracted," Batman says. "I'm fine," Nightwing says. When he turns away, Batman touches his shoulder. "Are you?" Nightwing looks out over the familiar-unfamiliar lights and shivers. "I'm here, aren't I?" Batman squeezes his shoulder. "I know --" "There's nowhere else for me to be." Nightwing bites his lip and leans into the touch, expecting Batman to pull away, but he doesn't. "You -- don't mind having me here, do you?" He's not expecting the arm around his waist, either, and the simple fact of it makes him startle. Batman's -- Bruce's voice in his ear just makes it worse. "You know this city." "I used to." The streets are different in subtle ways, rebuilt in new arrangements after No Man's Land. "You will again." Bruce's lips brush his ear and he shivers. "If I stay," Dick says. There is no sound for a moment but the wind, ever present this high off the ground. "Stay," Bruce says -- gentle enough that it isn't Batman, and isn't a command. It doesn't have to be either. Dick turns and kisses him, embracing him though it's hard to hold on, hard to make it feel like a hug instead of a rescue-carry. Bruce's mouth is hot and hard, exactly as it should be. "It's not fair," Dick says. "This is your home, too," Bruce says. It would be better to be home, or somewhere safe -- anywhere where Bruce could take off the cowl, anywhere where Dick could see his eyes and his entire expression. Where he could be a little more vulnerable. Vulnerability -- "Is it that easy?" Dick leans into his arms because it would be impossible to do anything else, but the vulnerability only goes so deep. "I'm unfired again?" Bruce kisses him again, harder, as if he's trying to crush everything that's imperfect -- all the years of separation, all the arguments, all the pain. "You'll never be Robin again." "God no." Dick takes a deep breath and loses it in a sigh when Bruce nuzzles his ear. "I -- I don't want to be -- but --" "Where else would you go?" Bruce -- no -- Batman asks. New York. Kansas City. Hong Kong. Paris. Oaxaca. Johannesburg. "Gotham is yours." "She used to be ours." Bruce touches his cheek with a cool gauntlet. "The streets will learn your name again." There are ways to be strong -- to find his own path -- to not fall into needing Bruce. There are ways to pretend he stopped wishing for this invitation when Jason took his mantle, or when Tim did. Dick says, "I can't wait."
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