to no country: age/origin-swap xover au w @rozaceous
summary: when your new guardian's family might be worse than your old one.
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[au of an au] * 10 for the pros and cons, a sunset every hour, domestication protocols
allie pov, korvin meet-ugly
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Someone besides Dick is in the apartment, she knows before she even unlocks the door. She doesnât exactly know how, just that she does know.
Dick is always hassling her about that, saying that intuition is useful, but if it doesnât have learned experience and method behind it, then itâs just superstitionâand then he tries to get her to break it down, everything she might have subconsciously picked up on to come to the conclusions she does.
Itâs not that Allie doesnât get it, or thinks heâs wrong, because she agrees with his premise and conclusion; itâs just frustrating to have to meta-think her own thought processes when sheâs certain of the outcome.
Whatever, right now, honestlyâitâs nothing actively dangerous, even if her spidey sense or whatever has her cautious.
âHey, Allie,â Dick calls once sheâs closed and relocked the door and is kicking her sandals off at the entryway. âGot company.â
âFigured,â she calls back. They must be at the dining seating by the kitchen; she can see the living room and the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom from here. So she rounds the little not-hallway, her duffle bag still on her shoulder, and yep, Dickâs sat at the two-top dining table with someone else.
Well, the first thing of note is that while Dick isnât tense, he doesnât look naturally casual. Something about how far heâs manspreading combined with the overly easy tone of voice he'd just used.
The new person, thenâfuccboi, is Allieâs first thought. Like, wow. Sixteen, sheâd guess, give or take a year, based on the build; school uniform of khakis and a polo with an embroidered logo for Gotham Academy on the breast, unbuttoned; sneakers that someone else would probably have as a collectible, and which are still on despite the shoe rack at the entry; black hair with an excruciatingly perfect fade, and beautifully formed curls up top; stud earrings in the lobes; a watch that also looks like a status symbol even if sheâs not close enough to make out the brand. And then thereâs his face. Look, she lives with Dick Grayson and she still thinks whoever this guy is is unfairly good-looking. Except where Dick is the sort of good-looking that invites you in and makes you want to hang around, this guy is the sort of good-looking that has Allie acutely aware of how sheâs still sweaty from soccer practice, and that sheâs only at the beginning of her growth spurt and awkward for it.
It hits her at once. The Maserati sheâd seen parked outside, this teenage fuccboi that Dick clearly knows, Gotham Academyâthis guyâs related to Bruce Wayne and showed up out of the blue.
âAllie, Korvin. Korvin, Allie,â Dick introduces with none of his usual charm.
Allie spares Korvin a glance and a âHey,â but he doesnât seem overly interested in her, gracingâand boy does she mean gracingâher with a half-nod of acknowledgment.
She looks back to Dick. âAre we doing dinner soon?â
He glances towards the fridge, and she can see him thinking about its contents.
âWeâd need to get takeout if you want to eat enough protein for an actual meal,â she interrupts his thought process. Theyâre both too active for a single chicken breast to satisfy. âGrocery store soon.â
âTomorrow,â Dick agrees, mouth quirking at her in a half-smile that she returns on reflex. âTakeout, you said?â
âWhy donât we go out to eat?â Korvin says, his expression one thatâs smiling butâwhatâs the phrase? Butter wouldnât melt in his mouth. âGive you a chance to drive the Mas, Dick. Just for fun.â
From the way Dick considers that, itâs a genuine temptation.
Christ.
Dick says, âSounds like youâre having funâtoo much fun. How none of the county police clocked you is sheer, dumb luck.â His expression is one of instant regret as soon as he speaks, and Korvin looks as if heâs about to gleefully fulfill that regret.
But he doesnât, and his smile goes back to the âbutter wonât meltâ version like heâs bestowing some great mercy on Dick, and Dickâs too good to twitch at it.
âYou really think theyâre gonna give me a ticket?â He asks instead. Thereâs no obvious emphasis on âme,â but his attitude is loud and clear at this point. Heâs special. Ugh, gag. Entitled rich boy, got it.
âI have to shower,â Allie says, since dinner out now seems like the agreed-on solution. Thereâs no way sheâs going into a restaurant of any kind as she is.
âWe can wait.â Korvin still has that smile on. âDick and I have some stuff to finish catching up on.â
Yeah, thatâs not ominous at all, okay. Sure.
But whatever. Allie dumps her bag, grabs some fresh clothesâor, in the case of her jeans, fresh enoughâand rinses off quickly and thoroughly. Seriously, the sweat. Ugh. She doesnât bother with blow-drying her hair, just clips it up still damp. And then she takes her hamper and sweaty clothes and dumps them in the washer tucked into the utility closet, so she can put the load in the dryer when they get back. Economy.
âHas the location been decided?â she asks Dick as he rises to put on shoes, and she slides the hamper through the open door of her bedroom with a kick. She wards off the hair ruffle he reaches to give her. Korvinâs still sat at the table, for all intents and purposes ignoring them as he looks at something on his phone, which is the latest high-tech brick, because of course it is.
âHow are you with steak?â
âDoes anyone who eats meat actually complain about steak for dinner?â she wonders. Still, âsteak as the defining trait of a restaurantâ is a bit of a departure from their usual âsteak as it exists in a tacoâ style of consumption. Though again, not complaining.
âIâve yet to hear it, but Iâm sure it happens,â he returns. âAnd I didnât ask yetâgood day?â
âNothing outstanding.â
âPractice?â
âEqually unimpressive, but not a waste of time.â
Dick snorts. âDamned with faint praise, it is.â
âOh, there was no praise on offer,â she assures him. Her middle schoolâs soccer team is uninspired, and her coach is more of a drill sergeant than his coaching ability justifies, but sheâs of the opinion that no practice is wasted. (She may also be the coachâs favorite, but thatâs neither here nor there, in her opinion, as it has more to do with her scoring ability and how she runs whatever laps he deems necessary than anything about her as a person.)
She slips her sandals back on, at which point Korvin brings up the rear, the pleasant expression heâs wearing having a similar quality as his earlier smile. Thereâs something seriously fucking wrong with this guy.
Dick locks up, they file down the stairs, and then itâs Allie actively trying not to make a face at this fucking car. Good god. Sheâd seen it parked down the block coming in and not thought much of it besides the owner basically asking to have it stolen, but. Well.
Ah, shit, this thing only has two doors, which means she has to run the debate of whether sheâs getting in behind Dick on the driverâs side, and thus risking BlĂźdhaven traffic more than is strictly required, or she has to get in behind Korvin, which feels self-explanatory at this point.
Maybe she shouldnât be so mean? Heâs barely said âbooâ to her.
Ultimately, she decides she fears BlĂźdhaven drivers more than she dislikes Korvin, and crawls into the backseat passenger-side. Of course, being inside the car is interesting on its own merits.
Itâs been driven enough to have lost the new car smell, but otherwise itâs one pine-tree-shaped air freshener away from having been driven off the lot. Seriously, no personalization? Not even a package of Kleenex?
Wait, no, thatâs a lie: thereâs an ornament dangling on a red ribbon from the base of the signal stalk.
At least Dick is having a good time? He adjusts the seat and the mirrors with obvious relish, anyhow. Korvin gives him a good five minutes of enjoying himself on the road before he speaks up.
âIâm sure youâd be able to swing your own Mas as a âwelcome backâ gift,â Korvin says. Heâs not looking at Dick, but leaning next to his window and looking out.
âWhat, you actually miss me?â Dick says teasingly, quickly flicking a look at him and then back towards the front.
âIâd hardly have to see you if I didnât want to in that crypt.â Allie can see him look away from the windowâtowards Dickâin the reflection. âJust saying for your benefit. Hers, tooâ âoh Jesus, what. Why is she part of this now?â âif youâre tired of slumming it one day.â
Can their lifestyle really be called âslumming itâ? Dick affords all that takeout no problem, anyhow. Sheâs fed, clothed, comfortably housed, and he got her new cleats for the season and contacts when they had a conversation about playing in glasses. Obviously, itâs not living in Bristol, but Allie doesnât have a problem with it, and if Dick did, he wouldnât be a cop of all things.
âIâll keep it in mind,â Dick says, and that tone of pleasant means he has no plans to keep it in mind.
What the hell is Korvin prodding at him for if he doesnât even want him around? Why does Allie have the sinking suspicion it has to do with her?
Korvin scoffs. âDo,â he then says, clearly reading Dickâs tone. âYouâve had time to get used to life without fancy toys. Thought you might've wanted an upgrade for someone following you along, is all.â
âLifeâs fine as-is.â Dick breezily ignores theâwhatever those undertones are. Allie thinks she grasps the implication, but the idea of her following Dick into vigilantism is absurd on its face in the first place, and, coming from Korvin, is requiring her to rearrange a few key pieces of information. âWouldnât say no to a vacation, even, but PTOâs at a premium at the moment.â
âCity jobs are supposed to have rights, I thought,â Korvin muses. âShame. Guess itâs just you, starring yourself, most nights, isnât it, Allie?â Him addressing her, though abrupt, is casual like he hasnât been throwing subliminals and ignoring her previously.
Is he asking her if Dick is out being Nightwing and sheâs feeling neglected or something? What.
He cuts in before she has a chance to respond, his tone dry and amused. âProbably better that wayâIâve seen him burn PopTarts onto the microwave before.â
âNot shocking,â Allie inserts. âOr at least, not like the time he forgot to take them out of the packaging before microwaving them was.â
âI can imagine, but Iâm always up for a dramatic retelling.â
âMercy,â Dick begs, good-naturedly.
âI have none,â Allie says, but theyâre pulling to the side of a restaurant thatâs fancier than sheâd thought âsteakâ implied before she can make good on the threat of her narrative style in relating his antics.
âValet,â Korvin answers Dick before he can ask. âI know better than to leave my car unattended in this hell county.â
âFair enough.â
How is she with steak. Sheâs going to kill Dick later, is what, letting her come somewhere this nice while sheâs in jeans, a tank top, and a plaid shirt. Maybe she should have dried her hair. Of course, Dickâs fine, slacks and a button-down that are his workday clothes, because heâs a goody two shoes.
Whatever. No one cares what a thirteen year-old wears. Itâs fine. At least she didnât wear a t-shirt.
Allie scours the menu once they sit down, practiced now at finding the things she can digest without event. It was sort of funnyâsheâd never outright told Dick that she was gluten or dairy intolerant, especially as she hadnât had the luxury of eating that way regularly before living with him, but heâd picked up on it within a week. She thinks it only took him that long because he forgot that eggs donât count as dairy.
âGet as much as you want, Allie-cat,â he tells her. âTurn it into an eating competition. Order multiple steaks.â
âAm I comparing cuts?â she asks, amused. Sheâd rather one larger steak and more vegetables, especially since sheâs willing to compromise on the butter. Ooh, roasted brussels sprouts, she wants those.
âIf you want, sure.â
The conversation throughout dinner stays tame, none of the poking about Dick slinking back over money and âtoysâ and potential references to vigilantism.
Allie considers that as she sucks down a lemonade. If Korvin was referencing Dickâs role as Nightwingâwell. Thatâs as good as confirming that Bruce Wayne is Batman, isnât it? Sheâd suspected before, because Dickâs gear wasnât the sort of thing that a police officerâs salary would support, and neither would whatever inheritance he got from his parents. He also clearly had been trained before the police academy, since not many cops knew martial arts like that.
And who had unreasonable amounts of money, and who had raised Dick after his parentsâ deaths? Bruce Wayne. Just Occamâs Razor, honestly.
Sheâd gathered that there had been some sort of falling out, but also that they were on speaking terms. Sheâd also used a search engine to tell her more than Dickâs vague statement of not being âthe only kid Bruce has or had taken in; just the first.â So sheâd known that Korvin existed, just like she knows that thereâs a dead adopted son who was the same age. Itâd been enough that she hadnât felt like digging further.
Maybe she should have? Probably it was too optimistic for her to think it wasnât information that would be relevant to her day-to-day, or that Dick would tell her more if necessary. Honestly, heâd probably be the first to tell her that any information she can find is fair game and good recon.
âAllie, Allison? Alice? Something Patterson?â Korvin watches her squinch at being full-named and laughs. Damn it all for not being unpleasant or obnoxious to listen to. âGuessing you and Dick met while he was on night shift.â
She actually grimaces at thinking about how she and Dick met. âAllie, for Alice. How we met isnât really dinner conversation.â
His face adopts a sympathetic expression. âFigured. Iâm not one to pry, either wayâGotham Survival 101.â He brings it back to a lighter tone. âHopefully schoolâs the worst that you have it right now. Where do you go?â
Allie knows the whole song and dance with school talks, and she rattles off basic information about her middle school, but she canât say she finds it that interesting a topic. The subject then naturally transitions to extracurriculars, him mentioning playing lacrosse, and, âOh, you play soccer? Thinking about joining the varsity team in high school?â
âIâm planning to play in high school, yeah.â
âJoining the varsity teamâ as though thatâs something she can just choose to do. Hilarious. Suppose itâs that easy for someone like him, a high school juniorâshe was right about his ageâand apparently captain of the boysâ varsity lacrosse team. She has a hard time imagining him playing, much less in a position of leadership; he seems like he finds the very concept of sweat offensive.
âI donât know about BlĂźd besides the usual Gothamite propaganda, but we have the better sports programs by far. Might want to look into transferring if soccerâs something you want to keep doing.â He cuts into his filet mignon as he talks, the serving comically tiny in comparison to the portions on her and Dickâs plates. What teen boy orders a six ounce filet mignon? Much less one who plays a contact sport and looks like heâs still in the midst of a growth spurt, ready to clear six feet?
His whole vibe is just off. Heâs technically well-mannered, but she feels like sheâs been caught in an impromptu business meeting with the project lead possessing the body of a rich fuccboi. She feels like sheâs stuck in an elevator with a Young Republican trying to be sly about networking.
But no, heâd button his polo if he were a Young Republican. And be worse at all of this, and even more insufferable, though thatâs a hard state to contemplate.
He still eats like a prissy bird.
Why is he even here? Because of his dad? And if so, in what capacityâBruce Wayne or Batman? He doesnât seemâhm. With the plausibly deniable references heâs made towards vigilantism, and all the leading statements about toys and upgrades, heâs clearly in-the-know, and involved in some capacity if heâs that comfortable leveraging his dadâs resources. But not a vigilante himself?
Allie does an excellent job of staying in her lane, but now that sheâs mostly got confirmation that Bruce Wayne is Batman, itâs easy to connect Dick to Robin. But regarding timelines, obviously there would have had to have been a successor. Not Korvin, not with that attitude, butâah. The dead brother. Yikes. Oh, ouch, and sheâd be willing to bet the actual circumstances of Jason Toddâs death were related toâ
She revises: Korvin probably hates vigilantism. At least resents it.
Probably not here for his dad. His own agenda, then. And it involves her, except he keeps making it seem like itâs a given that sheâd be following Dickâs exampleâno thanksâ
ââone of the Bristol boarding schools?â The sympathetic mask is still on Korvinâs face, but now itâs being aimed at Dick. âThings are coming to a head for you, arenât they? Youâre only going to get busier; the lifestyleâs not really conducive to having quality time together.â
Real rich coming from a guy who looks like heâd rather do Spring Break in the Keys, snorting cocaine on a yacht, than spend quality time with anyone.
âOur lifestyle is fine,â Allie says, a little flatly. âIt works for us. My social worker has no complaints.â
Korvin brushes off the comment with a laugh and good-natured, âSuppose so.â He then looks over at Dick again. âIf time spent together was the sole determiner of a relationship, youâd hardly be able to call us anything like brothers, right?â
Another fucking angle, again.
Dick stills for a microsecond before going back to his steak. She wouldnât have caught it, except sheâs been nearly giving herself an aneurysm trying to figure this guy out for the past hour. It happens two more times throughout dinner, each little dig getting deeper under Dickâs skin with how his pauses get more noticeable. By the time Korvin caps off his passive-aggressive campaign against Dick by grabbing the check ahead of him, and handing his credit card to the server with a smarmy, âItâs the least he can do for us,â Allieâs ready to take out his knees. Kick his ankles. âAccidentallyâ grind on his toes with her heel.
Heâs doing it on purpose. Not just being an asshole, but specifically coming out to BlĂźdhaven to be an asshole at them. Of course, wildly successful, truly none can do it like you, sirâbut why. Why make the effort? Why come out all this way to bother a sort-of brother he rarely sees or talks to and the kid heâs fostering? Korvin strikes her as the type to ignore rather than antagonize when he doesnât like someone, unless the antagonism is to generate a particular outcome.
Even if so, though, what the fuck.
Dick ends up driving them back to their apartment, once Korvin âinnocuouslyâ tells him not to go an hour out of his way to supervise him back to Bristol.
âNice having dinner with you, Allie-cat,â Korvin quips. âDick make that up? His naming senseâs really improved.â
Allie has never understood the phrase âseeing red,â and she still doesnât, exactly, but sheâs a little closer.
âYou donât get to call me that,â she says faster than she can stop herself, and colder, too. Sheâs generally much better at reining that type of response in, but she decides to afford herself some grace. Heâs been carefully working his way under her skin all night, and now heâsânot making fun exactly, but he sure doesnât get to use Dickâs cute nickname for her.
âHissy, okay, my bad,â he laughs.
She contemplates the back of the seat before her. If she places her knee against it just right and thrusts that hip forwardâ
âItâs cute youâre so attached. But maybe you shouldnât be.â As if she doesnât fucking know. Not that she wants to hear it from this asshole.
âIâm guessing there was a point to your visit, Korvin,â Dick says, more cutting than is strictly polite. He kills the engine. âOr did you just get bored and decide to stir the pot?â
Korvin has that insufferable, smug smile on his face until he grabs the keys from Dickâs hand, and he climbs out of the car without answering. Allieâs out faster than Dick, not wanting to be in the backseat any longer, wanting to get away, except that as soon as her feet hit the sidewalk and sheâs straightened, sheâs pinned with a nearly affectless look of assessment. Itâs utterly different from every other face Korvinâs worn tonight, and, her gut tells her, more sincere.
âIâm giving you friendly advice; if you were thinking about joining âthe missionâââ He pauses to let it sink in, and then he chuckles, though his face still relaxes back into a blank expression. âHopefully you wonât need an âIâm sorryâ gift for your sweet-sixteen,â he says, miming a little knock onto his jaw, and then he gives the frame of his car a dramatic pat-pat before going towards the driverâs side. âNight, nice meeting you. See you maybe, Dick.â
He gets in, starts the car, and leaves without another look back at them.
Allieâs going to puke up her steak. He was absolutely implying what she thinks he was implying. He wasâheâ
âAllieââ
âWhat the fuck goes on in that house, Dick,â she demands, turning to face her guardian. Dick looks uncomfortable, like heâs had an epiphany he didnât want to have. âDoes his dad hit him, Dick? Did you know about this?â
âThatâs notââ
âJoining âthe mission,ââ she repeats, and everything falls into place, not least of which why Korvin can sound resentful of vigilantism at the same time as he has a front row seat to it. She stares at Dickâs face, watching every twitch. âSo this was after Jason died. One son dies and he decides he might as well beat the other? What the fuck is going on?â
Dick now looks slightly ill amidst his expression of frustration.
âYou did know,â she realizes, though she instantly corrects herself. âOr, you knew part of it. He said something to you and you didnât take it that way?â
Yeah, sheâs on the money. She hates seeing Dick like this, hates that Korvin mightâve been right about her attachment to Dick not being a good idea. But itâs notâitâs not definite.
He still looks ill, and it strikes her thatâ âHe hit you, too.â Wow, she wants to take a baseball bat to this guyâs hands, see if he ever hits anyone again. âWhat the fuck.â
She stands there on the sidewalk, her hands tightened into fists, streetlamps turned on against the coming night. She breathes in and out through her nose.
Dick lets out a weak laugh. âPut you in an interrogation room and no suspect stands a chance.â
âDonât joke about this, Dick,â she says, voice hard, staring now at the curb. âItâs not funny.â
A sigh. âItâs not.â
âHeâs still in that house.â Allie feels the thought out, and it feels awful. âHe should not be in that house. What did he call it? A crypt? No goddamn wonder.â
âItâs not that simple.â Dick gives a frustrated sigh, tense as he runs his hand through his hair, and then bringing his fingers to pinch his nose bridge. âIâll obviously go look, but there might not be anything I can do.â
âNothing you can do. Not that simple.â She stares at him again, and he ought to look smaller to her now. She scoffs, turns on her heel, and makes for the apartment building.
âAllieââ
âBetter not go out tonight with that attitude.â
âAllie,â he snaps at her, and something about his tone freezes her in place and makes her skin crawl. âEnough. Do you know what it takes to remove someone from their parents, especially at that age, and with someone as economically stableâthriving, even, letâs sayâas Korvinâs dad?â
She does have an idea, actually. Kind of like how she knows she wouldâve had almost no chance of getting a long-term placement if Dick hadnât been there; sheâd be in a group home or a series of fosters until she aged out of the system, and chances are good sheâd be homeless after. Seriously, who does he think heâs lecturing?
And maybe sheâs being unfair to Dick, but heâs the oneâheâs Nightwing. Heâs the one whoâs supposed to think itâs simple, that something can always be done. Is she being unfair to hold him to his own standard, just because his standard is basically superhuman? She doesnât know.
âLike I saidâIâll check in, and I can level with Bruce. I will level with Bruce. Weâll see where it goes from there, okay?â
Maybe whatâs unfair is asking Dick to treat his own family the way he would someone elseâs. To âlevel withâ the man who raised him, but hit him anyways.
Even so. âIf he needs out, youâll get him out?â
âIf he really is in danger, I have the means to get him out of there. Promise, Allie-cat.â
She hopes; Dick hasnât broken a promise to her yet.















