Part 24: Christmas Break Up
A/N: this one is fun TRUST
The locker slams shut beside you, startling you from your thoughts.
Over the past few weeks, your time has been split between patrolling, training with the Avengers, studying for midterms and answering your fathers cryptic texts.
His most recent one, was asking what your favorite way to navigate is.
What could he possibly need that information for?
“We need to talk.” Harry’s voice rings out behind you, harsher than usual.
You turn to him, smiling despite the anxious expression on his face. You’re just happy to see him.
“Have you been avoiding me?”
“Ha ha.” You grumble, smile faltering. “Really funny. Jokes over. Where have you been?”
It’s been weeks since he stormed out of your house, accusing you of talking to Eddie. Something you’re still confused about.
“Busy. It’s complicated. Now, can we talk?”
“Here? Now?” You murmur, looking around. The hallway is crowded full of students trying to get to homeroom on time. Exams mean attendance is mandatory.
“I’ve been thinking…” He starts, despite your attempts to get to class. “I think we should—”
Your stomach drops. Is he breaking up with you? Sure, he was upset about Eddie, but nothing happened!
“Are you breaking up with me?”
“No,” he sighs, “I just need some space.”
“Space.” You repeat, staring back at him. “I feel like that’s all you’ve had recently.”
“I know, it’s just…it’s complicated.”
“More complicated than me being bit by a radioactive spider?” You mean it as a joke, but your heart is beating much too fast for you to be calm about this.
He shrugs, smiling slightly at your joke. “I’d say it’s pretty on par with that, actually.”
You pause, studying him. The bags under his eyes have darkened and his hair is messier than he’s ever let it be in public before. Maybe he does need some space. Or a nap.
“Is this about the serum you took?”
He looks surprised that you managed to piece it together, “Yes.” He lets out a tense sigh, glancing around the hallway.
There’s nobody around, homeroom already started while you’ve been talking.
“It’s dangerous. I’m dangerous.” He stresses the words, staring at you as if this is really serious. You suppose it is. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t want you to deal with this on your own.” You counter, eyebrows pinching together as he ducks his head.
“My dad is getting worse. I’m getting worse.” He pauses, letting out another breath. “Whatever I took…it’s the same thing he did.”
“Are you sure? How do you know?”
“He left his computer out the other night. It’s all detailed in his notes. The serum composition, the suit, the memories. He doesn’t remember most of his…” He trails off, trying to think of the word.
“Transformations?” You suggest, knowing that Norman Osborn is not himself when he’s the Green Goblin.
“Yeah, that. I ran some tests, it’s the exact same thing.”
“What was that doing in Dr. Connors’ lab?” You mutter, glancing over your shoulder as you sense someone coming.
You grab Harry’s arm, tugging him into a supply closet before he can answer and bring attention to the two of you.
“I think they were working together. When my mom died, she was sick.” You nod, knowing this already. He continues. “It’s genetic. He’s worried I have what she did and he’s been looking for a cure ever since. Actually, since before she passed. I just don’t know why he’d take it…”
“Maybe it has something to do with DNA?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.” You hum, considering his words. “Do you know when he took the serum?”
“His first log was from a couple days before you fought him at the bank. But who knows how long it took him to start keeping track of his changes.”
“He’s a scientist, I can’t imagine he waited too long.” You muse, "Maybe the one you took was updated? That’s why you’re not having as bad of a reaction as he is.”
“Or maybe it just needs time to kick in.”
You send him an unimpressed look. “Do you always have to assume the worst thing is what’s happening?”
“One of us does.” He fires back, rolling his eyes. You swat his arm.
“Anyways, if he managed to encode his DNA into the serum, maybe that makes it so you don’t suffer the same side effects as he did, because it already has your genetic makeup integrated into it.”
He stares at you for a moment, considering your words. There’s no light in the closet, but you can see him perfectly clearly—a side effect of the bite. You’re certain he can see you too, based on the way his eyes burn into your skin.
“That actually might be it. I’ll keep going through his logs, see if he put anything in there about it.”
He steps back, frown deepening. “I mean what I said though. This, us, I just can’t do this right now.”
You nod slowly, heart sinking the closer he gets to the door. “I get it.”
He doesn’t say anything as he leaves, not even glancing over his shoulder as the door shuts behind him. That hurts more than it should.
The closet feels darker now, somehow. Colder, lonelier.
The bell rings again, signaling homeroom is over.
Great, just what you needed before your last midterm of the year—a break up.
The Avengers Tower isn’t as intimidating now.
Nat sneaks you snacks during your training sessions with the other Avengers. She seems to have taken a liking to you, even going as far as to teach you her signature move.
You don’t train with Cap every time you’re at the tower, usually switching between days in the lab and days actually training.
Right now, you’re stuck with Barton, who apparently still holds a grudge about you calling him old. It’s not like you lied! He is old. Kind of.
An arrow whizzes past you as you swing, landing with a soft thud against the metal rafters.
“You need to be quieter than that.” He says, snagging another arrow from his quiver.
He likes to call this “target practice”.
For the past half an hour, he’s been shooting arrows at you and making you dodge.
After fifteen minutes without getting shot, you let him hit you in the arm. It tore part of your suit, blood dripping slowly down your shoulder.
Of course, seeing your minor injury, despite it already patching itself up, he claims you need more practice.
Never again will you take pity on an Avenger.
“Come on, kid!” Another arrow glides past your face, embedding itself into the ceiling. “Stark’s agreed to let you take the holidays off, you need to get as much practice before then as possible.”
“Okay, first of all,” you huff, swinging down to land beside him, “he is forcing me to take the week off. He’s banned me from the tower. And secondly,” you snatch the bow from his hand as he goes to shoot you point blank, “I let you hit me earlier.”
“Sure you did.” He grins, knocking your shoulder before taking his bow back. You roll your eyes, skipping off towards the bench with your bag.
Pulling a long box out of it, you pass it to him.
“What is it?” He asks, eyeing you skeptically beneath his shades.
You shrug, “A gift? It’s Christmas.”
“Right.” He mumbles. “Thanks.”
“Open it!” You push, nodding eagerly.
He raises an eyebrow but does as you ask, muscles tensing like he’s waiting for it to explode.
He pulls the lid off, finding a single arrow inside.
“Wow, I’ve always wanted one of these!” He mocks, but you can tell he’s joking by the smile tugging at his lips.
You roll your eyes again, shaking your head. “It’s electronic. There’s a device inside the arrowhead that’ll scramble a signal from any machine. At least, anything lower or on par with Stark or Luthor tech.”
“Really?” He asks, peering at it with much more intensity than before your explanation. Your smile grows.
“I can make more. Stark has a copy of the design, but I emailed it to you too. Encrypted, of course.”
He grins, patting your shoulder. “Thanks, kid.”
You smile back, turning to leave before he calls out to you again.
“Merry Christmas, Spider-Woman.”
“Merry Christmas, Hawkeye.”
Your apartment is quiet when you get home, which means Aunt May is still at work, otherwise you’re certain there would be some offkey singing happening as she tries another destined to fail recipe.
As much as you love the woman, she cannot cook.
She left a note on the table, set up neatly like a place card, beside a box.
The box is nondescript, much like another box you’d received recently. With a dead bird in it. You hold back a shudder at the memory as you read the card.
It’s written in Aunt May’s swoopy cursive.
A weird man dropped this off earlier—PLEASE tell me it’s not drugs or a severed head!!!!!!!!! :)
You really hope it’s neither of those things.
Setting the note back down on the table, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself for whatever you might find inside.
This time, there’s no Robin themed tissue paper, no dead bird. There’s a deck of cards, neatly wrapped as if it’s been unopened.
You open it, peeling the plastic away before opening the small box of cards.
Every card you pull out has blood splattered across it.
Every card you pull out is a Joker.
A bit on the nose, you think.
Did the Joker find you? Is he the one sending these?
Honestly, this doesn’t seem to fit his M.O., not that you’d really know. You barely remember the guy. But it doesn’t feel like it’s him.
Maybe you should call Batman. He might know what to do.
Then again, he might totally freak out at you again.
Probably better to deal with this yourself.
There’s a knock on your door. And then another. It’s slow at first before growing more frantic.
You walk towards the door slowly, glancing at the window opposite of it. The curtain is open, whoever’s been watching you probably knows you’re home.
Your stomach twists as you creep towards the door, careful not to step on any of the creaky floorboards.
Waiting a moment, you still don’t sense any danger, so you swing the door open quickly.
“Oh good, you’re home.” May sighs, squeezing past you to head toward the kitchen. “I forgot my keys and my glasses this morning. Just one of those days.”
She glances over her shoulder, eyeing you skeptically as you let out a relieved sigh.
“Expecting someone else?”
“You could say that.” You mutter, padding over to the kitchen.
“Definitely not.” You mutter beneath your breath.
She hums, setting her bag down on the couch. “Did you get the package I left?”
Oh no, the box! All the bloodstained cards are spread out across the table still, right where your aunt can see them.
She looks at the table faster than you can hide the cards.
“Is that blood?” She gags, wrinkling her nose as she looks at you. Her eyes widen. “He knows where we live! Oh no, oh no. Maybe you can stay with the Avengers. You’ll be safe there, right? Oh no, oh man.” She starts pacing, gripping her hair worriedly.
She glances back at the cards. “Are they all Jokers? Why on earth…How many decks of cards did this guy have to buy?”
You shift on your feet, frowning as you wring your hands together. “Aunt May? I think we need to talk.”
“So, wait a minute.” She rubs her head tiredly.
It’s been ten minutes since you told her about the dead bird in a box. “You have a stalker?”
She glances at the open curtain before squawking as she rushes to close it. “He could shoot you!”
“I’d sense it coming before he could.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”
“It should be.” You shrug, looking back at the cards. “Do you think he’d follow me to Gotham?”
She frowns, “Isn’t that what started this whole thing? Dead Robin, The Joker.” She gestures at the cards spread out across the table.
You shrug helplessly, “I might find some answers in Gotham.”
“You might get killed in Gotham.” She narrows her eyes at you, biting her cheek as she considers it. “Okay. Fine. But only because your father already asked if you’d want to spend Christmas there.”
“He did?” Your eyes widen, shocked that Bruce Wayne was actually making an effort.
“I can’t leave you alone for Christmas.” You frown, watching as she distracts herself in the kitchen.
“I won’t be alone.” She mumbles. “I joined this club, and they’re taking a trip up to a ski resort for a week. It’s perfect, you get to spend time with your father and I get to exist as my own person.”
She looks at you, eyes softening as she sighs. “I’ve been married for two decades and raising you for a quarter of that. I haven’t been by myself in years.”
You nod slowly, accepting her words. “Okay. Can you help me pack?”
Her eyes crinkle as she smiles, “Of course I can.”
It’s not Alfred that picks you up, although you definitely wish it was.
Instead, Dick Grayson is talking animatedly to your aunt while you shift anxiously by the door. Your bags are packed, suitcase resting at your feet while you wait.
May is leaving at the same time as you, just in case your stalker decides to show up at the apartment.
The gifts he’s left you sit at the bottom of your bag, including the dead bird you’d been keeping in the freezer. Hopefully you’ll be able to get on the road before it melts completely.
“Well, we should get going.” You hear him speak through the ringing in your ears. Every passing moment makes your nerves worsen, stomach twisting at the idea of meeting Damian.
Your father didn’t say much about him, just that he had a different childhood. You assume that means you’ll be doing a lot of taking the high road, but hopefully not.
May turns to you, wrapping her arms around you while lowering her voice. “Still want to go? I can fake a heart attack right now.”
You snicker at that, hugging her tighter. “I’ll be fine. Will you?”
“Uncle Ben…” You start, knowing this is one of the first holidays without him.
“Would want us to enjoy Christmas without him. But if it gets to be too much, just call and I’ll come running.”
“Thanks, May.” You mumble into her shoulder.
She pulls away with a smile, “Good. Now you better get going. I don’t care what powers you have, you have no business being out around Gotham at night.”
You choose not to mention the fact that you’ll almost definitely be patrolling at some point over break, she doesn’t need the added stress.
“Let’s go.” Dick claps your shoulder, grinning as he guides you out the door. “I have a surprise.”
You’re not sure what you were expecting, but a car full of people was not it.
“What…?” You trail off, glancing back at Dick. He throws your bag into the trunk of your car, slamming the back shut with a laugh.
“B was planning on introducing you to everyone over dinner, but I figured this would be more fun.”
He slides open the van door, revealing six people with varying expressions, ranging from enthusiasm to disinterest.
Ah, you think, that must be Damian.
The boy glowers at you, arms crossed as he’s stuffed in the back row between a grinning blonde and another boy.
“Back there, you’ve got Stephanie. Did you meet her? She’s Tim’s friend.” Dick chatters on beside you as he grips the passenger side door. “Then there’s Damian, you’re actually related to him. Bruce sure does get around. Yikes.”
“Oh, and that’s Duke.” He points at the other boy that seems to be glowing faintly. Your eyes narrow.
Is he a meta? Wouldn’t be too off base considering your father’s chosen pastime.
“You know Tim and Babs. But this is Cass.” He throws a fruit snack at the girl as she smiles politely. She doesn’t even look away from you as she catches it.
Definitely a vigilante, you think, brows furrowing.
Apparently, Bruce has been busy collecting children as if they’re Pokémon.
Tim kicks your shoe, elbowing you as you glare at the ground.
As much as you want to see your father, you were not prepared to meet this many new people.
“Does he even know you’re all here?”
“Well, no. Not exactly. He’s had Alfred planning a family dinner for weeks now, to introduce everyone.” You blink at him, frown deepening.
“So why are they here?” You ask.
Dick chuckles nervously, coughing slightly. “It’s like a mini family road trip. Come on.” He gestures for you to sit down before slamming your door when you do so. He slides across the hood of the car before settling into the driver's seat. “It’s gonna be fun.”
“I can drive.” Duke, Tim, Stephanie and Damian all offer at the same time.
Dick looks at them in the mirror before glancing at you. You throw your hands up in surrender.
“Don’t look at me. I’m from New York.”
He rolls his eyes, shifting the car into drive. He flips his sunglasses down onto his face, grin widening. “Ready for the scenic route?”
Apparently the scenic route meant stopping at a gas station just outside the city for a bathroom break that Tim insisted on.
“Maybe if you’d have less energy drinks.” Dick grumbles, spinning one of the display racks.
“Caffiene is a diuretic, you know.” Babs adds.
Tim huffs at them before darting off to find the restroom, grumbling about overbearing brothers.
The rest of you stay in the main area, browsing the shelves. Cass and Stephanie break off from the group, dragging Duke with them into the candy aisle.
“You have B’s card, right?” Steph shouts, ignoring the disgruntled looks she gets from the other customers.
Dick waves her off, flipping through the rack of keychains.
“Why don’t they ever have my name?”
“Probably because it’s a swear word.” Babs suggests, words overlapping with Damian’s.
“Probably because it’s another name for a genital.”
Dick looks at you for support but receives none as you snicker, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. “Your name sucks.”
“Wow, you all hate me and want me dead.” He moans, flopping onto Barbara’s lap. She pushes him off immediately, sending him rolling into the keychain rack.
It starts to tip but you catch it before it can fall on him.
The three of them stare at you, blinking slowly. Damian’s eyes narrow.
You glance back at him, now standing several feet away, where you started.
“No kidding.” Dick mumbles, standing with a grin. “Want anything while we’re here? I owe you for saving my life.”
“That’s too bad.” Duke siddles up next to you, shoving three different kinds of candy at you. “We already grabbed these.”
Your lips tick up into a smile, despite your reservations. Maybe these guys aren’t so bad.
His smile widens as he winks.
“Do you really need all this candy?” Dick grumbles, glancing at the pile on the counter. You add your bags to the pile before giving him space to pay.
“You’re just mad they’re out of skittles.” Tim rolls his eyes, handing a black credit card to the cashier. You didn’t even know they made them that color.
“It’s skittles! Of course I’m mad!” He groans, “I’m going to get a slushy. The rest of you, go to the car.”
The group leaves, tripping over each other as they head for the door. Cass turns Bab’s wheelchair without her having to ask, like they’ve done this multiple times.
You notice Damian is staying where he is, eyes following Dick’s movements closely.
“Ready to go back to the car?”
“I’m waiting for Grayson.”
You nod slowly, shoving your hands in your pockets. Your bag of candy hangs off your wrist, knocking against you leg as you wait. “I’ll wait with you.”
He glances at you, eyebrows still furrowed. You’re beginning to suspect that’s their permanent state.
You shrug slowly, not really sure why yourself. “You’re my brother, right? Family sticks together.” You hum, “Same reason you’re waiting for Dick.”
He huffs, scoffing at your words before turning back towards the slushy machine, only this time, there’s no Dick to be seen.
He cranes his neck, scanning the store before stomping off towards the bathroom to look for him.
He comes back a moment later, an even deeper scowl on his face as he stomps past you towards the door.
You hurry after the ten year old boy, stomach sinking as you reach the empty parking space.
“Look what you’ve done!” He turns to you with a huff, “Now we’re stuck here.”
The boy grumbles some more, saying something in a language you don’t understand before turning back to you. “I can’t believe Father wants you to come back to Gotham.”
Your heart drops, throat tightening at his words. Sometimes you wonder the same thing. Why would he want you to come back? You’ve been gone so long, he doesn’t even know you anymore.
Although, you suppose that’s just it. He wants to know you.
“Damian.” You sigh, frowning as the boy shivers. His shirt is hardly warm enough for the weather, having left his jacket in the car on his way in. “Come here.”
You slip your jacket off, settling it onto his shoulders before he can argue.
He squawks indignantly as he pushes it off. “I am not wearing that.”
“No, I am not.” He argues, but his nose is already turning pink. He rubs at it as he scowls. “Take it back.”
“No. Put the jacket on, it’s cold.”
“You literally are.” You roll your eyes, glancing back at the building. The sign is now flipped to closed. So much for 24 hour convenience stores. You hadn’t noticed earlier how dark it had gotten.
“Come on, let’s start walking. Maybe they’ll remember us along the way.”
Damian scowls, reaching into his pocket but his phone was left in the car.
“Call Grayson, he will come back for me.”
You frown, guilt sinking in. “It’s dead.”
“Great. You’re useless.” The boy huffs, “We’re stranded and I am stuck with the most useless person ever.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re very dramatic for a ten year old?”
“I am not. I react accordingly in every situation I am in.”
“Okay, so calling someone useless is helpful?”
“I said accordingly, not helpful. I will not coddle you just because you’re afraid.”
You narrow your eyes at the boy, before softening when you see that he’s wearing your jacket. “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid.”
“Fear is a chance to be brave.” You argue, tearing open a bag of life savers. “Want some?”
He glances at you, nose wrinkling. “I do not want your pity candy.”
“It’s not pity candy. It’s called a life saver. It’s really yummy.”
He huffs, pointing his nose up as he walks ahead of you.
The road is dark, trees surrounding the pavement on either side, towering over you.
If it comes to it, you’ll swing him back to the manor. But for now, you’ll take the change to get to know your brother, despite his apparent disinterest in you.
He slows his pace after peeking over his shoulder, seeing that you’ve fallen behind. He doesn’t say anything, but he stays by your side for the rest of the walk. He even accepts a handful of candy.
The sign glows faintly, partially spray painted over, right on the edge of the city limits. It’s only taken an hour, but you’re finally here.
You’ll never admit it, but Damian has made his way to the top of your sibling list.
Not like he has much competition, with his only other opponents in the running being Tim and a guy that’s spent the last five years ignoring you.
You’ve yet to spend enough time with the others for them to really count.
A car slows down beside you, “Need a ride?”
Damian tenses, placing himself between you and the vehicle.
You glance at the man behind the wheel. “No thanks.”
The car stops but you keep walking. The man jumps out of the car, throwing his arms in the air wildly. “You should be grateful.” He curses under his breath, calling you a couple names that you really wish he wouldn’t say in front of your ten year old brother. “I won’t ask again.”
“Okay.” You roll your eyes, fingers twitching at the man’s movements.
Damian hasn’t taken his eyes off the man, shielding you with his body as you continue walking.
The man reaches towards his belt, fingers inching towards the gun strapped to it.
You turn, firing a web at the man’s eyes as he looks down. It covers his face, blinding him. He shouts, muffled by the webs as he reaches up to tear it off. You bite back a laugh as his hands stick to the webbing.
He stumbles backwards and your stomach sinks, laughter immediately stopping. There’s a car coming, headlights illuminating the path in front of you.
Shooting another web, you yank the man back off the road before grabbing Damian by the scruff of your jacket and pulling him to the ground.
“What was that?” He hisses, smacking your hand away.
You stand up as soon as the car passes, whispering over your shoulder. “I’m Spider-Woman.”
You ignore his question as you approach the man, crouching beside him.
“Next time, you should really listen when a lady tells you no.”
“What is wrong with you? Get this thing off me, you freak!”
“That’s not very nice.” You pout mockingly, yanking the man up by his collar. You slam him into the hood of his car, he groans as the metal crunches beneath him.
That’s definitely going to leave a dent.
“Now, I want you to apologize for swearing in front of my brother.”
“Get your hands off me lady.”
“Fine, fine, I’m sorry! Okay?! Now let me go.”
You reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. Flipping through it, you stare at his ID, mumbling his name before looking up at him.
“I know who you are now. If I find out you’re causing any more trouble, I will find you. And next time it’ll be a lot more than just your car that’ll need repairs, got it?”
He agrees, sweating profusely as he nods.
You toss the wallet onto the hood beside him.
“It’ll wear off in about an hour. Until then, you should really take some time to think about your actions.”
You turn, ignoring the man’s panicked shouts as you stop next to Damian.
“Sorry you had to see that, some people just don’t know how to be nice.”
You smile softly, nodding towards the blinking city lights. “I can explain over ice cream.”
“You lost my children?” Bruce growls, staring down his oldest son.
Dick throws his hands up, sweat beading on his forehead. Sometimes the lighting in the cave really feels like an interrogation room.
“Lost is a strong word. Forgot…maybe. They were supposed to be in the car!”
“How did none of you notice they were missing?” He turns towards the rest of the group, jaw set. They shift anxiously, sharing glances.
“In our defense, we realized after a couple minutes and went back for them! They were just…gone.” Tim shrugs, looking the least worried of the group.
Babs continues typing on her computer, scanning the systems for any trace of you.
“Can you track their phones?” Bruce sighs.
“Damian left his in the car and hers is dead. I think.”
“Let’s hope it’s just her phone that’s dead.” Duke jokes before immediately looking nauseous as Bruce turns his glare to him.
Dick’s body locks up, jaw going slack.
Tim’s eyes widen as he pulls Duke away, “Maybe don’t joke about that yet. Wait until we find her.”
“Or just never make that joke.” Babs suggests, peering over her glasses at the boy. Tim finger guns, nodding his agreement.
Bruce sighs loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Suit up. I want you to find them. Once you do, let the others know immediately.”
Everyone moves quickly to suit up, disappearing in separate directions as they leave the cave.
“Dad?” Dick croaks, voice breaking slightly. “They’ll be fine, right?”
The diner is small and quite dirty, but it’s playing music loud enough that you’re certain it will cover the sound of your conversation.
Damian’s icecream is half melted, having not eaten any while listening to your story.
Every time you’d stop speaking to take a bite, he’d glower at your bowl as if it’s personally offended him.
“You were bit by a radioactive spider?”
“And now you hate peppermint?”
You nod again. Maybe you shouldn’t be revealing your weakness to a boy who has deemed you his current arch nemesis, but it really wouldn’t hurt the kid to laugh. Then again, maybe it would.
You scowl at the boy, rolling your eyes as he finally takes a bite. Slipping from the booth, you speak again. “I’m going to call dad, let him know we’re alright. Don’t wander off.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’ll be right back.” You cut him off, skipping towards the landline beside the counter. “Can I use that?” You point to it, asking the woman at the register.
She smacks her lips, rolling her eyes as she nods.
It’s late, you reason, fighting the urge to roll your eyes too.
It’s only now, staring at the numbers that you realize you don’t actually know his number.
Instead, you call your aunt.
She doesn’t pick up. Figures. Why would she answer an unknown number in the middle of the night?
You wander back to the table. “Do you know dad’s number?”
He smirks, “Of course I do.”
You stare for a moment, “Then can you call him?”
He scowls, scoffing at you as he stands, taking his icecream with him.
As much as you appreciate that he’s not calling you useless anymore, you still would like to get home and away from his haughty looks.
Please pick up, please pick up. You follow him to the phone, waiting with a bated breath as the line rings.
The manor is the same as it always is. Cold, empty and dark.
The only difference is now it’s snowing outside instead of raining.
But it doesn’t feel as suffocating, you don’t feel trapped.
It’s kind of nice. Peaceful, in a way.
Your room is the same as always has been. The stuffed elephant sits on your dresser, mirroring the same stuffed animal in Dick’s room.
When your father answered the phone, he sounded about as panicked as you’d expected. Which makes sense, considering the last time two of his children went missing, they both died and only one came back. And one of them was you.
There’s a knock on your door before it cracks open. Dick peers his head inside. “Need anything?”
He enters slowly, cautiously. You roll your eyes.
“It’s fine, Dick. You forgot us at the gas station, it happens.”
“You could’ve gotten hurt.” Not really, but you don’t tell him that. Damian looked so proud to be the only one in on your secret, that you didn’t have the heart to tell anyone else. At least, not yet.
“We’re fine. Me and Dames are totally cool now too.”
“Dames?” He raises an eyebrow. “You call him that to his face yet?”
You fake a shudder, “I wouldn’t dare.”
He cracks a grin, relaxing slightly as he sits beside you. “I’ve missed you, you know.” His face falls as he looks away, refusing to meet your gaze. “You wouldn’t know it, with the whole not calling or showing up thing, but I have. I should’ve been there for you and I wasn’t.”
“I get it.” You mumble, crossing your legs. You weren’t really prepared for another heart to heart, but you weren’t going to stop him.
“No, you don’t. Not really.” He sighs, glancing at you. “You don’t remember it.”
He pauses at that, meeting your gaze with a furrowed brow. “What?”
“Just bits and pieces. But I remember Jason. I get why you’re the way you are now. Losing him, losing me…that must’ve sucked.”
He lets out a heavy breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s one way to put it.”
You crack a smile, nudging him with your shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, for what it’s worth.”
“I’m sorry.” He frowns before flattening his expression into something more serious. “I’ll be around more. I promise.”
You smile back, heart warming at the promise. You just really wish he would’ve gotten the chance to keep it.
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