This is an idea I had while I was falling asleep last night so it’s a little jumbled but just hear me out
In yj there’s that episode where Klarion and the other wizards split the world between the adults and the kids. But what if there was a slightly different situation.
Think of a universe where Dick is 11 years old when he joins the young justice team with Wally, Kaldur, Conner, Artemis, M’gann, etc. he still has the most experience, and the others are still 15+, but he’s 11.
And in this universe, maybe the villains were slightly more thoughtful. They didn’t want to just split the world with everyone who was 18+ being in a different dimension than everyone younger. Because who’s gonna take care of the babies and the toddlers? That wouldn’t be good. It would be horrible. And that’s not what they want.
So they make the split so specific. Kids 5-12 end up separated from everyone else. School-aged kids should be able to take care of themselves and each other, they figure.
But now that means Dick and Billy are the only two in their dimension who can help repair things.
And it’s chaos. Total chaos. Dick does what he can as Robin to put out a broadcast to keep everyone calm. But he’s 11. And he’s scared too. And just because he’s one of the older kids doesn’t mean they’re all going to listen to him.
He and Billy find each other quickly. They already knew each other out of the masks, because Bruce wanted to make sure Billy knew he had people he could rely on even when he wasn’t Captain Marvel.
But instead of the situation being solved in a matter of hours/days, it’s 10 weeks before things get fixed.
10 weeks of kids living in chaos.
10 weeks of parents worrying about their children and shouting at the Justice League to fix things.
10 weeks of Bruce working endlessly, tirelessly to get his kid back.
10 weeks of Dick channeling his inner Bruce to figure out how to fix this.
It’s Dick and Billy making a coordinated attack from both dimensions with Billy turning into Captain Marvel that finally merges the two dimensions back.
And that’s how Dick ends up standing in the middle of the street, alone, bruised, Robin uniform dirty and torn up. Billy had flown off immediately to go find his uncle. And now Dick - Robin - is trying to catch his breath in the middle of the street as families are reuniting all around him.
“B?” he gasps, twirling around, tattered cape fluttering around him. His throat is scratchy and he’s so tired but he still feels so lost.
“Batman?” he calls. “BATMAN!”
Everyone around him is ignoring him, focusing on their own families. A few people turn their heads, noting the young vigilante, but ultimately making no move the help him.
“BATMAN!” he’s screaming. He’s running, not knowing where he’s going, not knowing where to find anyone who might actually want to see him.
He’s starting to feel entirely hopeless until he hears a distant bark of Robin! echo through the streets.
He can’t feel his feet the longer and faster he runs. He keeps following the echo of Bruce’s voice, choking out his own desperate calls of, “Batman! Batman!”
Then he turns a corner and finally sees him. The pointed ears on top of the cowl, the billowing cape. There are others around too, other League members, his own team members he hasn’t seen since this whole fiasco began. But all he cares about is Batman.
“BATMAN!”
He’s losing his voice. He can feel it. He’s been on the verge of getting sick for two weeks now, sheer stubbornness being the only reason he hasn’t actually fell ill yet.
The next thing he knows, Batman is kneeling in front of him, and he’s slamming into the bat on Bruce’s chest plate, gloved fingers digging into the grooves of the suit, and he has Bruce’s arms wrapped tightly around him.
“Robin,” Bruce breathes into his hair, laughing in relief. “Oh, Robin.”
“Batman,” he pleads, his voice dipping into a whine, and he lets out a dry sob. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Bruce says firmly, without hesitation. “I missed you so much, chum.”
“Don’t let go,” Dick begs, pressing himself closer to Bruce, wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his face Bruce’s shoulder.
“I’m not, I’m not letting go,” Bruce promises. “I won’t let go. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
And Dick finally breaks. He’s been so put together since this whole thing began. He’s been wound up like a toy soldier, on constant alert, constantly read to fight, constantly looking out for other kids. But now his job is done, and he’s falling apart while Bruce keeps him held together.
“You did such a good job,” Bruce continues praising him, rocking them both from side to side, squeezing Dick tight. “Billy told me everything. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud.”
Dick can’t find the words to say anything back. Every time he tries to speak, he hyperventilates, wheezes, the words not able to leave his throat. Bruce just shushes him, reminding him to breathe.
They stay like that for a long time, huddled in the ground, Bruce keeping Dick held upright. The other JL members are holding off reporters and news broadcasters, asking people to stand back, trying to keep anyone from seeing the Dynamic Duo so vulnerable but not afraid to tell everyone that it’s thanks to Robin and Captain Marvel that the dimensions were reunited.
It’s Flash who ends up coming over to then, uncharacteristically slow as he tip toes towards them, and he says in a quiet voice, “Uh, Batman, they really want a statement from you.”
“Flash, I will snap your legs like twigs and leave you to crawl home if you try to make me let go of my son right now.”
“Noted,” Flash says quickly, then disappears from sight as he zooms to stand beside Superman, hoping to use him as a shield.
Dick is giggling, hiccuping, wiping at his face as he pulls back and looks at Bruce.
“I wanna go home,” he begs then, sniffling. “I wanna see Agent A.”
“And he wants to see you, too,” Bruce assures him. “If you thought I missed you? Oh boy, he’s not going to let you go for hours.”
Dick is smiling, even if his lips are still trembling slightly.
“It was like Lord of the Flies out here,” he whines, slumping against Bruce and forcing him to pick him up. He knows he’s getting bigger, too big to be carried like a little kid, but he’s exhausted and he’s hurt and he missed Bruce so so much. Bruce doesn’t seem to mind, picking up easily, carrying him towards the Batplane parked on the other side of the reporters.
“That bad?” Bruce asks.
“Terrible,” Dick assures him, nodding his head. “You know what I think would help after the whole thing?”
“What’s that?”
“If you got me a dog.”
Bruce sighs, letting his head fall back a bit before he looks straight ahead again. They both know the reporters are following, listening. Dick is using this to his full advantage.
“You said before this whole thing that if I was responsible enough, you’d let me have a dog!”
“This is not the sort of situation I meant.”
“I took care of everyone and everything! I saved the world! I think that’s plenty responsible enough to take care of a dog!”
“I’ll think about it.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a maybe.”
“So that’s a yes! I think we should name him Bat-hound.”
Bruce is laughing. Actually laughing, which makes several reporters and heroes alike turn to stare. Because Batman rarely shows emotion like that.
“I missed you,” he tells Dick again, his voice soft.
Dick lays his head on Bruce’s shoulder, hiding his face in Bruce’s neck, and he closes his eyes.
“I missed you, too,” is all he says.
The they’re in the Batplane, flying back to Gotham.
Alfred doesn’t let go of Dick for a very long time once they reunite.
Dick sleeps in Bruce’s bed for a week.
Dick shows up to Mount Justice a week later with a German Shepherd puppy wearing a Batman themed harness and a little cowl.
“He’s the Bat-hound!” Robin happily announces to his teammates, and he’s giggling as he holds the puppy that won’t stop licking his face. “I’m still training him.”
The Bat-hound’s civilian name is, of course, Ace. Bruce helps Dick train him every day, and Ace has proven to be quite the little guard dog. He sleeps in Dick’s bed every night. And the nights Dick sleeps in Bruce’s bed, Ace is right there with them.
And if you add to that the younger Batkids in that dimension: Damian around 5 years old, Tim about 7 or 8, and Jason somewhere between 9 and 10, while Dick at 11 has to act like the adult in charge, barely holding it together. That kid was already a single mom, absentee dad, and big brother all in one. The true Gotham Eldest Daughter.
I don’t know how Dick managed to handle all that pressure, but he did it because he had no other choice.
Your post gave me so many ideas, and even though it’s focused on Dick and Bruce, I can’t help but imagine the Batkids caught up in that chaos too.srry