Normal - Birdflash Fic
It all started after one particularly rough mission.
The Joker had pulled one of his stunts again – he planted a bomb underneath a bank and held the inhabitants hostage and the team went in to intervene. They expected it would be quick and simple, thinking that the Joker would take off running when Conner smashed his way through the front door. But they were wrong. They had underestimated the sheer number of the Joker’s henchmen. The team scrambled to keep from becoming overwhelmed and overpowered and they slowly watched themselves lose the advantage. The henchmen ended up capturing Robin in the middle of a scuffle, handcuffing him to a metal pipe in the basement and handing him over to the Joker.
The Joker forced the rest of the team to stand down, blatantly disobeying Robin’s begged orders to ignore him and take the baddies out regardless of what happened to him. They weren't willing to risk getting Robin hurt. He got hurt anyway. They laid their weapons on the ground and allowed Joker’s henchmen to roughly restrain them. The team watched helplessly, bound and gagged while the Joker tortured Robin, carving little patterns into Robin’s pale flesh with a knife. He kicked Robin’s ribs, his legs, smashed his hands with a brick. The Joker promised to kill each of them one by one and make the remaining members watch as he put on a sadistic show.
The madman made the mistake of turning his attention away from Robin for a second too long though, giving Robin the chance to twist his body into an inhuman contortion in spite of his restraints to press a hidden button and activate an emergency signal. Batman burst in minutes later, practically foaming at the mouth with fury at the sight of his beaten and bloody sidekick. He broke the Joker’s ribs, smashed his face in with one well-aimed punch, then unceremoniously tossed him into the arms of GCPD officers to be thrown back into Arkham.
The team came out of it just fine. Robin survived; most of his wounds were merely surface-level and would heal in a matter of days. But they were just so goddamn tired. No child their age was equipped to handle this lifestyle. Tonight had been particularly hard on them. They had grown so close over the past few years; they were connected through M'Gann's mind-link at least one day a week these days. They moved in unison, a kind of intimacy that few people knew. The prospect of losing someone who they had literally shared a mind with was terrifying. Each of them visualized quietly how empty it would feel with any one of them gone.
When they returned to the cave after a quick debrief with Batman, the team’s nerves were collectively shot. Batman left to give them some space, and they wordlessly slumped down onto the furniture in the living room. Wally threw himself onto the couch, gently pulling Rob down with him. Rob curled up with his head in Wally’s lap. The speedster mindlessly ran his hand through the boy’s ebony hair, carefully avoiding the freshly bandaged wounds on his forehead. The other members of the team were scattered around the living room, lost in their own world.
They were tired. Not just physically; they were a down-to-the-core, my-soul-aches kind of tired. Balancing their superhero lives with their private lives was exhausting in its own right. But more than that, they faced trauma daily that most civilians aren’t asked to face in an entire lifetime. As much as they try to laugh it off – and make no mistake, there are times where laughing it off works – being shot at, captured, tortured, and pushed into wars they weren't responsible for had ground them down to the bone. There are some things that laughter just can’t cure. Watching one of their friends get tortured was definitely one of them. Robin’s broken screams still echoed fresh in their minds.
Conner stood up wordlessly, causing the other members of the team to jump in surprise. He stiffly moved to the couch and sat down in the open seat next to Robin. Wally gave him a nod in solidarity. Superboy motioned to M’Gann and she floated over to settle into his lap. Wally pulled Dick upwards, nestling in behind him and tucking Dick’s body into his in a spooning position. He motioned the rest of the team over. Kaldur and Artemis, understanding the request, squeezed in between the two couples. The team silently wrapped themselves around each other. Personal space was nonexistent between them at that moment. They wanted to stay there, wrapped up in each other, forever.
They sat around the cave in silence for hours, each member unwilling to let the other five out of their sight. Facing death is always a scary thing, but facing the death of someone so close to you and being unable to help? That was the stuff of nightmares. They desperately needed to be together, to see with their own eyes that the most important people to them in the entire world were still alive.
The team stayed there with love and caring and acceptance flowing over them in waves through M’Gann’s telepathic link until their trembling stopped and a feeling of peace settled over them. After a while, Kaldur cleared his throat. He could feel through the mind link that they were all hungry. He suggested a distraction - preferably one that involved food - and since there was no way the team would let each other out of their sight that evening, he suggested a team bonding night. Wally brightened a little and suggested a new bar and grill that just opened up in Central City, adding that it would definitely still be open at the current late hour. After a round of looks amongst themselves, checking in with each other to see whether or not they were up for it, the team quietly agreed and carefully untangled themselves from their cuddle pile. They radioed their mentors to let them know their plan, promised to check in later on that evening, and hopped in the Zeta tube.
In spite of the late hour, the bar and grill was still buzzing with energy. The lively atmosphere felt a little abrasive at first, but as the team silently eased into it, it began to feel almost… healing. They sat in a corner, away from the other patrons and restaurant staff. The dull drone of the restaurant’s other patrons talking and laughing along with the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen blended to create a calming hum.
Robin produced a fake ID out of his pocket and purchased a round of beers for the whole team.
The team needed to laugh and drink like they hadn't just almost watched their best friends die one by one, so that's what they did. They were pretty reserved in spite of the alcohol; they giggling together into the wee hours of the morning, cracking jokes about everything from their mentors to hilariously botched missions in their early years to the funny happenings that come from running a double-life. They all felt better afterwards, warm and tipsy and feeling just on this side of normal.
Upon taking the Zeta tubes back, they still didn’t want to part ways. After a silent agreement over the mind-link they made their way down the hall as a group and crowded into M’Gann’s room – it had the biggest bed. They all collapsed together onto the mattress, exhausted, and soon fell asleep to the comforting sound of each other’s steady breathing and the warm weight of each other’s bodies.
So when the next week rolled around, after getting embarrassingly curb-stomped by a gang of Captain Cold’s henchmen, they contemplated returning to the restaurant. Batman objected, stating that they cannot be seen at any one place as a group consistently or villains (or, god forbid, paparazzi) might notice a pattern which could leave them vulnerable. The team agreed, and in spite of Batman’s frown, opted to go to a real bar instead.
Robin pulled convincing fake ID’s out of his utility belt for each member of the team (the sneaky bastard), and they Zeta’d to a bar in Star City. They lounged at their table comfortably, sipping their drinks, enjoying the feeling of looseness and warmth spreading through their bodies. They were still gently telepathically connected, so they just basked in their connection and in being alive.
The next week, although their mission went well, they went to another bar and did a few rounds of shots. Their moods soared after a successful mission, and they wanted to capitalize on that after the rough couple of weeks they’d had. They toasted to their mentors, to their health, to the concept of justice, and to the League. As the night went on, they toasted to increasingly stupid things - like henchmen who can’t shoot a gun for shit, armor that doesn't chafe, and super-villains who monologue waaay too often. None of them ended up in their own beds that night; they just collapsed on the softest surface they could find, sharing beds or couches with whoever they happened to collapse next to.
The following week they hit up a club and got so wasted that they returned to the cave and crashed on the floor in the living room, not even bothering to drag themselves to a bed. They simply used each other as pillows and snoozed until noon the next morning. They woke up hungover, but Kaldur – being the determined, responsible leader that he is - forced them to gulp down several glasses of water and eat a big breakfast, so they bounced back and resumed training later on that evening.
Unbeknownst to the team, it was at that point that Batman intervened. He assigned a member of the Justice League to follow the team undercover in rotating shifts to ensure that no harm befell them. He did leave strict instructions, however, not to intervene unless they were in imminent physical danger. He knew what it was like, after all. The team just needed to blow off steam and reconnect to their human side. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest outlet, but… was there even a truly healthy way of blowing off steam? Black Canary only had so many hours in the day to spend on talking them through their trauma. It seemed to work well enough. The team was still keeping up with their training in spite of their outings, so he allowed it to continue without comment.
One week, they stopped in a quiet bar outside Keystone that was filled with hipsters and craft beer. Dick texted a selfie to Batman with the whole team holding their beer in the air in a toast and added the caption, "I love my life!" It brought tears of joy to Bruce's eyes. He had never seen his sidekick as happy as he looked in that photo.
Their weekly bar hopping adventures were pretty much expected now. They were common knowledge among the rest of the League. They looked forward to their nights out, chatting up ideas for their next outing over the mind link during their down time.
Spending so much time mind-melded had begun to affect them; they all felt a startling increase in for empathy for one another. It was hard not to empathize with someone when you were fused with their brain that long. What was once friendly banter and teasing over the mind link turned into something softer, more affectionate. Each member of the team felt affection a little bit differently, but they could all recognize the general feeling over the mind link. There were small nuanced differences, but it was there.
Wally didn’t hide much from his team. The term “open book” applied well to him. He felt love strongly, unrestrained and unrelenting. Love was simple to him. It was a force of nature, and he didn’t bother resisting it. He never held back. It was beautiful for the others to behold. The affection Wally held for his friends felt like warm sunshine over the mind-link. He shared memories of his excitement at meeting Robin for the first time, the adoration and respect he felt for him as they grew closer, and the joy that grew within him as he realized that they had become best friends. He shared his memories of his emotionally abusive father and explained to the team that he fears being like him, which is why he is so constantly affectionate - he doesn't want anyone to ever feel the way he felt. His friends would know that they were loved.
Dick generally quiet, but when the situation called for it, he had a soft eloquence to the way he expressed his feelings. Dick had seen enough trauma in his formative years that he got really good at psychoanalyzing himself. He surprised the team at first with how his mind processed things. He viewed feelings as neither right nor wrong; they just... were. Every feeling was valid in its own right, and they were all there for a reason, whether stemming from maladaptive behavior or otherwise. To Dick, rules just didn’t apply to feelings, just as they didn’t apply to the English language. His teammates frequently felt him processing his thoughts over the link as he stacked his feelings together the same way he stacked words together; pulling them apart, dissecting them, studying them, piecing them back together how he wanted. Eventually, through the mental link, Dick shared his back story - the pain of losing his parents, the confusion when adopted by a stranger, the exhilaration at becoming Robin. He shared the dull pain in his heart that he still felt when he thought of his Flying Grayson days. He shared that English wasn't actually his first language (1), and that is why he is so fascinated with butchering it - he remembers learning it, and he likes to play with it; bend it to his will. He shared the conflicting desire within him to prove himself worthy to Bruce, and yet the desire to set himself apart from him. He shared what being in love with Wally felt like - like coming home after a long mission that pushes you far out of your comfort zone, returning to the place where you feel safe and where you unquestionably belong. And finally, he shared his relief at no longer having to hide large parts of himself from the people he loves most, as he'd had to do his entire life.
M’Gann felt things very differently than the rest; she was Martian, after all, and grew up with a constant mental link with everyone around her. Not that she took the link she shared with her team for granted; her whole team felt her unrestrained joy at having such a connection again. Love positively flowed through her. Being raised in such a communal manner had a very real impact on her. She tended to put others before herself, and her team had to calmly remind her on several occasions that if one of them grows weary, their whole team grows weak. She can’t burn herself out for the sake of helping others. After that, she repeated to herself that she needs to take care of herself so she is able to take care of her team, like a shameful mantra, but several members of the team pressed back at that; primarily, Robin and Aqualad. That reasoning, they insisted, only granted her permission to take care of herself so she can take care of other people rather than granting that she is allowed to be taken care of in her own right. She is worthy of being taken care of too. They are a unit, after all. Late at night, her eyes would frequently sting with unshed tears as she fought off feelings of unworthiness. She then felt the team pressing into her, reminding her that she is just as much a part of the team as they are, and her tears would fall along with the walls around her heart.
Superboy was different. He felt affection and protectiveness almost fearfully, even violently. It felt like a sharp pain to the others over the mental connection at first; it felt foreign and strange to some members of the team. They had noticed that he is usually in survival mode – fight, flight or freeze. He wasn’t even worried about himself; he was indestructible. He was worried about his teammates, who were very much destructible. He shared over the mind-link that the first thing he remembers in the entirety of his short life is waking up from his psychically-induced coma to see Kaldur, Kid Flash, and Robin. Robin had been the first to keep a promise to him – he showed him the moon, he introduced him to Superman. Aqualad had been the calming whisper in his ear when he was filled with rage and confusion inside CADMUS. Wally had been right there beside him when Superman was giving him confusing and mistrusting looks, insisting that Conner was just as much a part of the team as the three sidekicks were. He had literally known these people as long as he could remember; he had grown up alongside them. He couldn’t imagine life without them. Even when he didn't know who he was or why he was created, he knew who he cared about, and that was his anchor. The team felt his reasoning for being so protective and it brought tears to Wally and M'Gann’s eyes. The team had to spend several weeks sending reassuring feelings towards Conner in order for him to feel a little more secure in his friends’ safety. Over time, the dull ache inside him faded and was hardly noticeable anymore.
Artemis was also hardened, just in a different way. Rather than allowing herself to feel sadness or embarrassment or fear, she covered most of her emotions up with anger. She grew up in a rough home, a home where conflict was the primary method of human interaction. Old patterns are tough to break, she realized as she felt her teammates’ frustration when she was being contrary yet again. Affection didn’t come easily to her, and she tended to shut down when she thought someone was rejecting her. It made her a tough nut to crack. Her team’s frustration, she realized as time went on, did not stem from her behavior but rather stemmed from their inability to help her. She finally broke down and cried when she realized that, for the first time, she knew what acceptance felt like.
Kaldur, oldest and wisest of all of them, held them all in high esteem in his heart. He was raised in a very formal environment where affection was not openly shown, so he struggled to feel anything too deeply at times. It did not come easily to him. He would frequently ponder it within the mental link, simply feeling his teammates’ feelings, soaking it all in with a sense of wonder. He felt the others mentally lean in when he did so, giving him the equivalent of a mind-link hug. He appreciated every moment of it.
The mind link forged their bond deeper. They sometimes left it open well after missions ended, just to chat with each other. M’Gann felt a quiet nudge in her mind at odd times, which she realized was a teammate requesting that she open the link. She always obliged, and quickly figured out that she could tell who was requesting it; each person’s touch in her mind felt different, distinct. They could all feel it, and they could immediately tell when one of them wasn’t connected. M’Gann would seek them out, the team feeling a rush of warmth, feeling complete, when the missing member joined the link. They found themselves spending more and more time linked together, whether in the same room or not.
Their bar outings continued. The team went from simply sitting around, drinking and laughing together during their outings, to dancing together as the weeks went on. It started with Wally admitting that he knew the “Party Rock Anthem” choreography, and Dick turned to him with a slurred declare of “ME TOO!” The team laughed as the two boys flawlessly imitated the music video in spite of their intoxication, matching each other move-for-move. The boys worked so well in-sync, both on and off the field. Wally and Dick taught the rest of the team the choreography and they danced as a group every time the song came on. The psychic link helped; they guided each other through the moves, filling in the blanks for each other when exhaustion or alcohol caused them to forget a step. It was quite the spectacle.
Batman watched their comings and goings in silence, begrudgingly approving of their new bar-hopping routine. The team seemed to be closer than ever. They appeared to be, for the first time, thriving rather than merely surviving.
As the weeks went on, they continued to surprise each other. Reserved Robin turned out to be a genuine party animal. He could dance like Magic Mike and didn’t mind being the center of attention, unlike the stealthy bird that he was while he wore the cape and domino mask. Wally surprised the group as well; it turns out he had some talent they didn’t know about – he could break-dance better than anyone they had ever seen (it helped that he had such fast feet). He and Robin would frequently get into dance-offs; as an acrobat, Dick could basically move his body any way he wanted. As with all aspects of their lives, the two boys competed against each other and pushed each other and both got better for it. Dick learned some moves from Wally and they break-danced in sync, earning awed stares and cheers every time they performed together. In turn, Dick taught Wally some Magic Mike-style dance routines, and the boys caused quite a few club patrons’ cheeks to flush and pants to tighten. They were both very kinesthetic people; dancing just came naturally to them.
It wasn’t just Robin and Wally though; they were ALL kinesthetic people. It just came with the territory. Sparring, aiming a weapon, hand-to-hand combat… Fighting and dancing aren’t that entirely different - one is just better choreographed.
Each outing became rowdier. Wally and Dick’s weekly break-dancing competition turned into dirty dancing against each other, and as they got more and more comfortable with each other, the rest of the team began to engage with them too. They all just wanted to feel alive with the people who they almost died alongside. The girls danced together, the guys danced together, they mingled. Each teammate brought their own spice to the mix. Dick’s style of dancing was smooth and sensual. Wally’s was straight dirty. Connor and Kaldur were a little reserved, but easily opened up with the team, keeping up with even the two rowdier boys as they grew more comfortable and confident. Artemis danced like she talked – roughly and to the point, in your face and shameless. M’Gann was shy at first, but Artemis slid in behind her to guide her hips and, flush against M’Gann’s back, felt her pick it up quickly.
At each outing, every member of the team made sure to spend at least a few minutes dancing with one another. They all dirty danced together, even the ones in relationships, regardless of gender and sexual preference. Sexuality be damned; they were all so close at this point that nobody cared. There was a certain intimacy to be found in consistently almost dying together – what’s a mindless pelvic grind compared to that? It felt amazing to feel their blood pumping together, pressed together and feeling each other’s breath, reveling in the physical evidence that the people they care about most were alive and right there with them and so connected, physically and mentally. Alcohol flowed easily on those nights.
At Batman’s request, they stayed unpredictable and tried a new bar every week. Their weekly outings became as essential to them as training simulations and counseling sessions with Black Canary. The team loved their new routine. It cleared their heads, it reaffirmed their connection, it was fun. For the first time since they took on the responsibility of being superheroes, their lives were finally beginning to feel balanced.
After a couple months of bar hopping, they wound up at a gay night club. Their mission that evening had gone badly -- about as badly as one could possibly go, and they needed to shake off their residual feelings of terror. Dick walked straight to the bar, downed four shots and jumped up on an empty table, dancing like a stripper even though the booze hadn’t even hit him yet. Wally cheered him on and wolf-whistled as he moved. Dick cocked his eyebrow at him and leaned down, extending his hand, pulling Wally up on the table with him. They began to grind in sync, Wally bending his knees to press up against Dick’s backside.
Dick had almost died during that night’s mission. Just as Robin shot his grappling hook in the air and jumped off a rooftop, a rogue with a point to prove had cut his line with a well-aimed arrow. Dick fell seven stories. Wally had watched it in horror, feet frozen, before jerking to life and skidding his feet into motion so quickly that he left a burn mark on the concrete. He hurled himself up into the air and jumped under Dick just seconds before Superboy did, and Conner wrapped his arms around them both, cushioning their fall.
Dick’s body had been wound tight in a ball in Wally’s arms, still braced for impact, and Wally seized the acrobat’s hands and pried them away from his eyes to search his facial expression for signs of pain. Dick looked up with a wince, realizing he wasn’t dead, and threw his arms around both Wally and Superboy. The three of them trembled together for a moment, their psychic link clearly communicating the fear still fresh in their minds. Concern and relief flowed over them in waves from the other three members of the team. They all shakily nodded to each other, not even needing to express their mixed gratitude and worry. They all felt it.
The team had stumbled home after the mission, quickly debriefed with Batman and changed into civvies without talking. As they all reconvened in the living room, all it took was a short “So, Gotham this time?” from Dick to have the team grinning and running for the Zeta tubes.
Wally’s eyes sparkled as he moved against Dick's lithe body, attention completely focused on the young acrobat, pressing his cheek up against the younger man’s neck and murmuring a loving stream of consciousness into his ear. They balanced themselves on the table, swaying back and forth. He ran his hands up and down to caress his chest and abs, feeling his rapid heartbeat under the lightweight cotton t-shirt he wore. Wally found himself profoundly comforted by the feeling of his heart beating. He needed to feel that Dick was alive, pulsating and moving and breathing and his.
After the team had danced themselves into a sweaty mess, they stumbled back out of the club, giggling at Wally’s impression of Batman’s strained, gravely voice – “I am vengeance! I am the night! I am… CONSTIPATED!” Dick fell over himself with laughter, and Wally quickly caught him and slung an arm over his shoulder.
The team made their way back to the Zeta tube, whooping and laughing, not a care in the world. Though none of them said anything, they were all aware of Green Arrow following a few hundred feet behind them in civvies. They had caught on at that point that they usually had a Leaguer following them, but allowed it to happen. They felt even freer and safer knowing that someone was looking out for them, though none of them would admit it to the League. Wally looked back at Green Arrow, who pretended to be texting on his cell phone. He could swear he saw Arrow wink at him. He just rolled his eyes and turned back to his team.
Still filled with mirthful laughter, they stumbled through the Zeta beam, following each other into Dick and Wally’s shared room. By then, the boys had moved their video games, uniforms and Dick’s various gadgets into one room and had pushed their beds into the other, creating a giant room-sized bed just for nights like these. More often than not, the entire team would crash together in their room after their outings, reveling in their mind-link, each magnifying the group’s feelings of comfort, acceptance and - lately, increasingly unrestrained joy.
The team left the psychic link open almost constantly nowadays, basking in the loose connection to each other, allowing the others’ feelings to be a soft hum in the backgrounds of their minds. It was comfortable. Familiar. Having spent so much time in each other’s heads, it felt almost second-nature to have the mind link open. As much as the link felt like an unnatural intrusion when they felt it for the very first time, their minds now felt somewhat empty without it. The connection that they held with each other was one unlike anything they ever dreamed they would experience. They balanced each other out, filling each other’s pitfalls, holding each other up in times of need.
Their hearts felt full, like the feeling of having just eaten a warm home-cooked meal; the dull ache they used to feel was, over time, replaced by the stream of love and acceptance seeping from their teammates’ minds.
They may never feel normal, but this was their normal, and they wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/8826136
