Breaking the Ice / Dick Grayson x Sibling!Gender Neutral Reader
Which, Dick Grayson attempts to bond with his younger adopted sibling, Y/n.
A/n: This was requested by an anon. The gender wasn't specified, so, the gender is neutral. Hope you like it!
The Wayne Manor was unusually quiet for a Friday evening. The faint hum of Alfred’s vacuum cleaner reverberated faintly from the east wing, while the ticking of the grandfather clock in the study provided a steady rhythm. Dick Grayson sat cross-legged on the plush carpet in the living room, fiddling with the pieces of a half-completed puzzle. It was a rare night off for everyone. No patrols, no missions. Just family time—or whatever passed for family time in this house.
The door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed off the hardwood floor. Dick glanced up, offering a lopsided grin when he saw his younger adopted sibling, Y/n.
“Hey, Y/n,” Dick greeted warmly. “Wanna help me out? I’m starting to think this puzzle’s missing pieces.”
Y/n, with their ever-present hoodie, pulled low over their eyes, shrugged. “No thanks,” they muttered, their voice barely above a whisper. Without breaking stride, they made a beeline for the staircase.
Dick sighed, watching them retreat. It wasn’t the first time Y/n had brushed him off, and he doubted it would be the last. They weren’t close—not like siblings should be. And while Dick could accept that relationships took time, Y/n’s wall of indifference was as impenetrable as the Batcave’s security system.
Jason’s voice broke the silence, startling Dick. “You’re wasting your time, Boy Wonder.”
Dick turned to see his younger brother leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Y/n doesn’t exactly do the ‘bonding’ thing. You should know that by now.”
“I know,” Dick said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But they’re family, Jay. I just… I want them to feel like they belong here.”
Jason snorted, pushing off the doorframe and walking over to the couch. “They belong just fine. They talk to me, don’t they? And Cass. That’s two people. More than some of us got when we first showed up.”
Dick raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but they don’t talk to me. Or Bruce. Or Damian. Heck, even Alfred barely gets more than a grunt out of them these days.”
Jason shrugged. “Maybe that’s just how they are. Not everyone’s a people person, Grayson.”
“Or maybe,” Dick countered, “they just don’t feel like they can trust us yet.”
Before Jason could respond, the soft pattern of footsteps drew their attention. Cassandra entered the room, her silent presence more comforting than any words could be. She walked over to Y/n, who had reappeared at the base of the stairs and gave them a small wave.
Y/n’s posture relaxed almost imperceptibly, and they managed a faint smile. “Hey, Cass.”
Dick watched the exchange with a pang of envy. Cassandra didn’t need words to connect with people; her understanding went deeper than that. She placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder and led them toward the couch, where Jason promptly scooted over to make room.
“Great,” Dick said with mock indignation. “Now everyone’s on the couch except me.”
Y/n shot him a fleeting glance before turning back to Cassandra. “You didn’t have to make room for him,” they said dryly.
Jason chuckled. “Told you. They’ve got a sense of humor—just not for you.”
Dick sighed but couldn’t suppress a small grin. “Thanks, Jay. Really helpful.”
For a while, they sat in companionable silence. Cassandra pulled out a sketchbook and began doodling, while Jason and Y/n exchanged snarky commentary on a cheesy action movie playing on the TV.
Dick watched them from his spot on the floor, feeling like an outsider in his own family. But as the night wore on, he noticed small cracks in Y/n’s icy exterior. The way they leaned ever so slightly toward Cassandra. The way they let Jason tease them without snapping.
Maybe Jason was right. Maybe Y/n didn’t need to bond with everyone in the house to feel like they belonged. But Dick wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
The puzzle piece in his hand snapped into place, and a small sense of accomplishment warmed his chest. Maybe he’d never be the older brother Y/n wanted—but he could still try to be the older brother they needed.
“Hey, Y/n,” he said, holding up the puzzle box. “I bet Jason twenty bucks I could finish this before the movie ends. Wanna help me prove him wrong?”
Y/n hesitated, their eyes flickering to Cassandra for a moment before landing on the puzzle. “Fine,” they said, sliding off the couch and plopping onto the floor beside him. “But if you lose, I’m keeping the twenty.”
Dick laughed, handing them a piece. “Deal.”
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Y/n settled cross-legged on the floor next to Dick, their hoodie still shadowing their face. They didn’t look at him as they started sorting through the pile of puzzle pieces, but it didn’t matter. Dick knew better than to push too hard.
“Okay,” he said, shifting the puzzle box to face Y/n. “This is where we’re at. Edge pieces are mostly done. It’s this middle section that’s killing me.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, picking up a piece and studying it with laser focus. “You separated the pieces by color, right?”
“Uh…” Dick hesitated, scratching his head. “I was getting to that.”
Y/n huffed, a sound that could almost be mistaken for a laugh if Dick didn’t know better. “No wonder you’re stuck.” They pulled the box closer, dividing the pile into smaller groups with quick, practiced movements.
Jason, still lounging on the couch, smirked at the interaction. “Look at that. You’re actually getting them to help. Miracles do happen.”
Y/n didn’t look up. “You’re just scared we’ll finish before the movie ends, and you’ll have to cough up that twenty.”
Jason blinked, caught off guard by the comeback. Then he let out a bark of laughter. “Alright, Y/n. If you win, I’ll throw in another ten just for the sass.”
Cassandra glanced up from her sketchbook, a small, approving smile curving her lips. She didn’t say anything—she rarely did—but her gaze lingered on Dick for a moment, as if to say, Keep going.
Dick took the cue. “Alright, team,” he said, tapping the puzzle. “Let’s do this.”
For a while, they worked in relative silence. Dick occasionally sneaked glances at Y/n, marveling at how quickly they picked out matching pieces. Their focus was intense, almost like watching Bruce when he was in detective mode.
“You’re really good at this,” Dick said casually, not wanting to break the rhythm.
Y/n shrugged. “Used to do puzzles with my mom. She loved this kind of stuff.”
The mention of Y/n’s mother hung in the air like a fragile thread. It wasn’t something they talked about much—or at all. Dick knew better than to pry, but he felt a pang of sadness for the life Y/n had lost before coming to the Manor.
“She must’ve been awesome,” Dick said gently.
Y/n didn’t respond right away, but their hands never stopped moving. “She was.”
The quiet acknowledgment was enough for Dick. He could feel the walls around Y/n shifting, even if only slightly.
By the time the movie credits started rolling, the puzzle was nearly complete. Jason groaned, tossing a pillow in Dick’s direction. “Fine. You win. But I’m blaming Y/n for this betrayal.”
Y/n smirked, holding up the final piece. “I think I’ll take that extra ten now.”
Jason rolled his eyes, digging into his pocket for cash. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t spend it all in one place, kid.”
Y/n pocketed the money with a small but genuine grin—one that caught Dick off guard. It wasn’t much, but it was a rare glimpse of the person behind the hoodie.
“Good teamwork,” Dick said, offering a fist bump.
Y/n hesitated, then bumped their fist against his. “You’re still not getting my twenty,” they said, but their tone was lighter, almost teasing.
Cassandra’s quiet laugh broke the moment, and even Jason cracked a smile.
Dick leaned back, feeling a sense of accomplishment that had nothing to do with finishing the puzzle. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t fix everything overnight, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like they were moving in the right direction.
As Y/n stood and started heading toward the stairs, Dick called after them. “Hey, Y/n?”
They paused, glancing back over their shoulder.
“You’re welcome to join us anytime. For puzzles, movies… whatever.”
Y/n didn’t respond, but there was a flicker of something in their eyes—something that looked a lot like hope.
As they disappeared upstairs, Jason flopped back onto the couch with a grin. “You’re like a puppy, you know that? Just wagging your tail until someone pets you.”
Dick chuckled. “Maybe. But you saw that smile, right? Totally worth it.”
Cassandra nodded, her expression soft. “They’ll come around,” she said quietly.
Dick smiled, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah,” he said. “They will.”
The Manor was steeped in darkness, save for the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the grand windows. The clock struck midnight, and the household was mostly quiet. Jason had already retreated to his room with a pile of books he swore he wasn’t reading, and Cassandra had disappeared somewhere in her usual silent way. Bruce and Damian were still out on patrol, leaving the Manor feeling both vast and strangely empty.
Dick was in the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry for a late-night snack, when he heard soft footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Y/n standing in the doorway, their hoodie pulled up as usual, though the drawstrings were loosened enough to reveal their face.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Dick asked, pulling out a box of cereal.
Y/n shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that.”
“Join the club,” Dick said, pouring a bowl. “Want some?”
Y/n hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”
Dick grabbed another bowl, sliding it across the counter toward them. Y/n moved to the fridge, retrieving the milk without a word. It was a simple routine, but in the quiet of the night, it felt oddly significant.
They sat at the counter in silence, the sound of spoons clinking against ceramic bowls filling the space. Dick stole a glance at Y/n, who seemed lost in thought, their eyes fixed on their cereal.
“You okay?” Dick asked gently.
Y/n shrugged again, a noncommittal gesture that Dick had come to recognize as their default. But then they surprised him. “I don’t… hate it here,” they said quietly, almost as if the words were being dragged out of them.
Dick blinked, caught off guard. “That’s… good to know,” he said, trying not to sound too eager.
Y/n poked at their cereal, avoiding his gaze. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. Any of this. The family stuff. It’s weird.”
Dick set his spoon down, giving them his full attention. “It’s weird for all of us,” he admitted. “I mean, look at this place. We’re not exactly the Brady Bunch.”
Y/n snorted, a small, genuine sound that made Dick smile.
“But,” he continued, “you don’t have to figure it out all at once. And you don’t have to do it alone. We’re all here, whenever you’re ready.”
Y/n didn’t respond right away, but their posture seemed to relax a little. “Jason says you’re too nice for your own good,” they said after a moment.
Dick laughed. “That sounds about right. He’s probably told you all kinds of embarrassing stories about me, huh?”
“Some,” Y/n said, a faint smirk tugging at their lips.
“Well, remind me to return the favor,” Dick said with a grin. “I’ve got plenty of dirt on him too.”
Y/n’s smirk grew into something closer to a smile, and for the first time, Dick felt like he was seeing them—not the guarded, distant version they showed to everyone else, but the person underneath.
They finished their cereal in companionable silence, and as Y/n rinsed their bowl in the sink, they paused. “Thanks,” they said softly, their back still turned.
Dick tilted his head. “For what?”
Y/n shrugged, their voice barely above a whisper. “For trying.”
Dick’s chest tightened, warmth spreading through him. He wanted to say something profound, something to let them know how much that simple acknowledgment meant to him, but all he managed was a soft, “Anytime.”
As Y/n turned to leave, they hesitated in the doorway. “Goodnight, Dick.”
It was the first time they’d said his name, and it caught him so off guard that he almost didn’t respond. “Goodnight, Y/n,” he said, his voice full of quiet affection.
As the door swung shut behind them, Dick leaned back in his chair, a small, contented smile on his face. It wasn’t a grand gesture or a dramatic breakthrough, but in the quiet of the Manor’s kitchen, it felt like the start of something real.
