The Dark Fairy (Young Justice)

Chapter 10: Dynamic Duo Caves (EDITED)

"Fae Hills."

Fae Hills.

Fae Hills.

Funny. That's my name.

Oh shit that's my name.

But that would make Robin Dick and Dick Robin. Hah, yeah no. Nope. No comprende, nada, zero chance, zilch.

You know it could really be someone else, my name's not that weird-

'Besides all the other circumstantial evidence, how many other Faes have we fucking met in the Gotham sector?'

Good point internal Fae. Fuck you.

If this girl is Fae, and Fae is me, then Robin is Dick, and Dick is a superhero. If Dick is a superhero...and I'm apparently a ...superhero(?)...then all this time...

Oh God. He's been Robin.

"Ania? You good there buddy? Your thousand yard stare is kind of really creepy in the florescent light-"

His wave in front of my face snapped me out of my existential aneurysm and kickstarted my automatic response. Said response zone is also the same one that's made me staple my own hand to a notice board in elementary.

"Dick?"

'Well done on keeping this revelation secret for more than five minutes Fae, you've really outdone yourself-'

His face stilled.

My breathe stopped.

He coughed, no doubt trying to cover his reaction, he still has that fucking grin twitch oh my fucking gosh it's him-" ahem...Jeez I tell you my trauma and I get insulted. I'd expect more sympathy, you have such a great big heart-"

"You're Dick Grayson."

"...you're dick grayson?"

"..."

"Yeah I didn't think that was gonna work either."

"No shit." I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at his face. Looking for...all of him. The scar on his chin from the pottery shrapnel from mini-explosions in the yard has faded. His hair somehow got darker.

His hand was ticking against his pockets, no doubt in preparation to sedate and interigate me. I always thought he was so paranoid when the first alarms went off or the news said a villain was attacking nearby. I thought the tick was a case of anxiety.

Turns out it's a combat reflex.

"How much do you know?" His voice was narrow, sharp. It was the same one he'd used in that warehouse a month ago.

I'd been seeing, hearing, talking to Dick for weeks-

"I know you're ass at English Literature. I know you have a fascination with attempting all the monkey bars within a five mile radius." My breathe choked, I kept talking- "I know you're probably going to have a death by chocolate, but by some masochistic means you choose mint flavour because you suck-"

"It's an artistic preference-" His eyes were probably wide beneath the shades. They were probably still blue.

I wasn't crying. These weren't tears. What's a little salty water?

"And you could never look at Bruce like a dad, but Alfred's your Grandpa cause you never knew your Romanian Grandparents. I mean, to be fair Bruce isn't the epitome of compassionate caregiver-"

I paused. He winced when my eyes widened.

"Please tell me Batman isn't a billionaire playboy."

"...he isn't?"