Chapter Text
Blinking up at bright lights-
The cave.
No. That wasn’t possible.
Bruce kicked him out.
His stomach twisted. Maybe it was just another nightmare. Another universe where he hadn’t left fast enough. Where Bruce changed his mind and decided to finish the job.
Voices drifted from the main platform. Low. Careful.
Talking about him.
Dick rolled his eyes.
Of course they were.
Dick slid off the medbay cot without a sound. If Batman thought he was staying put, he was wrong.
Slowly, Dick hides around the corner towards the Batcomputer.
“So what, Golden boy is a kid? Big deal.”
Okay… Not Bruce, that’s a good sign, maybe an alternate universe? Magic? Still not sure.
Dick stays perfectly still in the shadows.
Golden boy.
His jaw tightens.
The voice is unfamiliar, rough, older, edged with open annoyance. Not Bruce. Not Alfred. Not anyone he recognizes.
He leans around the corner, just enough to see.
Two men stand by the Batcomputer.
Not teenagers. Not really. One is broad-shouldered, a white streak cutting through dark hair. The other is thinner, lankier, straight black hair hovering over his face as he types.
They’re wearing bats.
His stomach drops.
What.
Bruce didn’t replace him that fast. He wouldn’t. He-
Bruce did kick him out.
The thought lands heavy and sharp.
Maybe this is what happened after— Maybe Bruce just… moved on.
Dicks throat tightens.
The cave is wrong. The platforms have been expanded, the computers upgraded, the floor has more wear, even the lighting feels harsher.
Too much has changed.
He shifts his weight, carefully in the shadows.
The lankier one pauses mid typing. “Thermal spike.”
The bigger one turns immediately. “Where?”
Damn it.
Dick moves, lightly, gracefully as his prior family had taught him.
Not towards the stairs, that’d be too obvious. He takes a grapple from a nearby shelf, it’s newer, a redesign, he fires it upwards before he can second guess it.
It’s different. Faster. He barely has time to brace.
He lands on the upper railing, rolling smoothly. He stills, waiting for a sign they are still behind him.
Distantly, “Kid’s got training,” the broad one huffs.
Kid.
He isn’t a kid.
Without thinking it through -Slade would be disappointed- he sprints towards the secondary exit, and nearly collides with a solid wall of black armour.
Bruce.
Just-
Older.
Grayer.
Bigger somehow, not in build, in presence. The cape falls heavily, the cowl sharper, the lines around his mouth deeper.
Dick freezes.
For one brief second, relief flares. Bruce found him. Bruce came-
No.
Bruce’s expression isn’t one of relief.
It’s of calculation.
“Dick,” Bruce says.
His voice is the same. Too calm. Too prepared.
Dick steps back immediately, spine straightening on instinct. “What is this?”
Bruce doesn’t answer that. Of course he doesn’t. That brief relief has now morphed into anger.
“You were injured,” Bruce says instead. “There was an accident.”
Dick laughs once, sharp and disbelieving. “I wasn’t anywhere near you.”
A flicker crosses Bruce’s face.
Good.
He remembers.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Dick continues. “You made that clear.”
The two strangers join them, spreading slightly. Not aggressive, but spread out enough to attack if necessary. They’re trying to corner him.
Bruce’s gaze flicks to them, briefly, then back. “Stand down.”
To them.
Not to dick.
That’s new.
Dick swallows the lump in his throat.
“What year is it?” he demands.
Silence.
The lanky one glances at Bruce, almost questioning. “He doesn’t know.”
Know what?
Bruce steps forward slowly, as if he’s trying not to spook dick off. “It’s 2026.”
No.
That doesn’t make any sense.
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Dick shakes his head. No. No, that’s not possible. He was out with Da- Slade. He-
He was angry,
He had left the manor weeks ago.
Bruce had kicked him out. Left him all alone.
This has to be some sort of mind game. Scare tactic. Hallucination. Something. This can’t be Bruce.
“I want my dad,” Dick says suddenly.
It comes out rougher than he had intended.
Bruce stills.
The strangers exchange a careful glance.
Bruce’s voice softens - victim mode. “Dick…”
“”Call him,” Dick snaps. “If this is some weird future thing, then call him.”
“Call who?” the broad one asks.
Dick stares at them like they’re idiots.
“My dad.”
Bruce’s jaw tightens. “John is-“
“I know he’s dead,” Dick cuts in, anger burning hot and immediate.
“I’m not stupid.”
The cave goes very silent.
Dick lifts his chin, heart pounding. “Call Slade.”
That gives them a reaction.
The broad one swears under his breath.
The thin one goes rigid.
And bruce?
Bruce doesn’t move at all.
“Dick,” Bruce says carefully once again, “Slade Wilson is not your-“
Before he can finish, dick cuts him off. “He adopted me.”
“Legally” he spits out.
That’s when he feels the room shift, from disbelief to shock. Real shock.
Bruce didn’t know.
Part of him is proud that he could hide something like that from Batman,
But the realization is dizzying.
Bruce didn’t even look for him.