An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Dick sleeps as much as he can that weekend, nullifying any spare hour. He always heard that you really can catch up on sleep. Pay off your deficit in one fell swoop. Dick has been digging himself deeper and deeper into the red for a decade, and he has plenty of debt to balance.
It goes like this: sleeping, rising when he has to, eating when he’s fed, and sitting, and laying, and thinking. A new morning has come and gone, but “today” keeps going.
Bruce deposits him in the sun room, saying something about where he’s going that isn’t important enough to comprehend. This isn’t a bedroom, so Dick is content to curl up in a cushioned wicker chair, thumb the file on his lap, and stare out the giant windows.
The garden is dying. The trees around it are already dead, frost-bitten branches doing nothing to hide the muddy grass beyond. Gray lighting washes the whole scene out. Gloomy and cold Gotham winter, and this year hasn’t even given them snow to dress it up yet. Only the pine trees around the edge of the property still look alive, blocking any view of the world outside Bruce’s land.
The thing that looks like Jason is his current minder, over on one of the plush lounge chairs. Another good reason for Dick to keep his eyes on the outside.
The last time they were alone...Ha. Dick thought it might talk to him. Thought there was finally a little brother who wanted to confide in him, or at least that they’d get the belated reunion that had been constantly undercut by hidden identities and crime sprees and urgent distractions. Thought wrong. He was stupid, and he paid the price.
If it tries to lead him somewhere else he won’t go, he tells himself. He can’t do that to Tim. He has to stop letting himself be led. If not to stop his own undoing, then at least to prevent Tim’s.
Tim isn’t here, though. Just Dick and his minder, exactly where Bruce left him, and Dick isn’t getting up to go look. He’s supposed to protect, and he doesn’t...want to. Doesn’t want to get up, to get close, the risk the discovery he’s failed. Again.
Part 15 of the props series













