❝ i suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you? ❞ -jason @ dick
Dick slowly lowered his arm, dropping his grappling gun on the hard cement of the roof. "Brave?" His voice founded foreign even to him. As much as he'd never be able to fully understand what Jason had gone through, what he was still going through... Jason didn't understand him either. Their paths were nearly polar opposites but that didn't mean that everything was smooth or easy. That was the biggest misconception that people seemed to have about him, that everything was easy.
He was the golden child, the boy wonder, founding member and leader of the teen titans, leader of young justice, the first robin, the prince of Gotham, Bruce Wayne's first child, assumed future CEO of WE, Batman's protege, the last flying Grayson, Robin, Nightwing, Renegade... He was Dick Grayson. Who was Dick Grayson though? Everything else was simple, it was expected of him, he knew the role he was supposed to step into. The game that he was supposed to play.
He survived on protein shakes that made him gag, power bars that allowed him to choke down enough calories to maintain his 'peak human condition, he slept enough that the bags under his eyes weren't concerning, he trained until he threw up daily, only to repeat the next day. The problem with such a high level of expectation was that unless you were consistently exceeding those expectations you weren't good enough. Being good enough while you're working with super-powered individuals, much less being expected to lead them was an impossible task. He would never be good enough.
Dick couldn't teach them enough, he couldn't train them properly. He watched his friends die, he led them into the battles that they never walked out of. They got replaced the next month like they'd never existed. Replaced as though their lives and sacrifices didn't have meaning. How long would it take for him to be replaced after his inevitable death? How long before Nightwing was nothing more than a hologram in the hall of fallen heroes? Batman hadn't had a problem replacing him as Robin, giving away his mantle as though it belonged to him rather than Dick himself. Would someone take over his Nightwing mantle? Stepping into his shoes and giving the world a new hero with the same name, effectively entirely erasing him and the work he'd done. Crediting his entire life to an unknown...
It had been too long since he'd spoken to Jason, his mind suddenly snapping back to reality. A sloppy grin came over his features when he'd realized how long he'd held the blank expression. Black expressions didn't belong on his face, that wasn't what everyone expected. That wasn't the brand he'd created. Dick jumped forward, balancing haphazardly on the ledge of the building, "Brave huh?" He switched to one foot, hopping along the edge, two giant one-footed steps, the leg holding him wobbling slightly beneath him. Why was he shaking? He was an acrobat, there was no reason to shake, no reason to fear...
He turned his head as he lowered his foot back down, his body facing his brother while he stared over his shoulder, eyes watching the sidewalk far below him. Dick's eyes met Jason's, blue orbs seemingly staring straight through Jason's bright green. Slowly Dick started to lean backward, it would be so easy. The easiest thing he'd ever done in his life. It was the best part of flying, after all, the falling, the weightlessness engulfing you, adrenaline pumping, mind going blank... The image of his parents too flat against the ground flashed into his mind and he jumped back onto the roof just before he reached the point of no return.
"There's nothing brave about me Jason. I'm a fucked up circus brat in spandex with a hero complex and training. Nothing about me is brave." He stepped forward to grab his grappling gun, giving it a quick once over before he walked back to the ledge, "Later Little Wing. Don't be stupid." Without another word he fell backward, this time allowing himself to fall.
