Dick did not look away when the group stirred back into consciousness. Something in that blurring haze had caught his attention. He stared straight at it, doubting his own senses. Garfield's confused hum only made this belief grow. Could it actually be? No. . . She was dead. He had seen it. Played a part in the horrifying act. They were all probably confused. Yeah, that was a logical explanation.
But then, "Dick?"
It was her voice. Fuck, he had forgotten how she sounded. How could he have obliterated her sweet tone from his mind? Was he that terrible of a friend? He had let her die, after all. It was his fault that she missed the most stressful yet wonderful era of her life. All because he had followed Bruce. Played as his pet until the point he started to like it. Going out every night for the wrong sort of fun.
He swallowed. Hard. There was a knot that impeded him to respond to her sweet plea. He could only look. And even that was becoming difficult with the forming tears that burnt his eyes. Two more figures had appeared behind the resurrected girl. Rachel and Robin tried to catch up with Dianna, sharing a loving, one-sided hug.
"Richard?" She was shattered, probably her lower lip quivering in worry. Now, that he remembered. Every little expression her face was able to make. It all came back to him. He had forgotten he knew her this well. The last person he ever bothered to. "Would you please stop ignoring me?"
"I'm not," he croaked out. And with that, tears began falling down his cheeks. He did not care what the others thought. After years, he was able to have a conversation with her. A real conversation. Not an invention of his childish and broken mind. He began closing that large gap that separated them. "I'm here, Dianna."
Dick could not believe he was saying her name out loud to her. It had been so long, the action felt nearly foreign.
Excitement flowed through his veins, rushing his every step. By the looks of it, the same happened to Dianna. In surprising short seconds, they stood before each other. They were still, unsure of what to do. He studied her face, barely aged since the last time he saw her. Her youthfulness had been preserved. But him, he was older now. He could note the slight confusion on her face.
She was exactly as he remembered her. But the same did not happen with him. Over a decade had transpired. He had been stressed, beaten. And those signs marked his skin.
His breath clumped in his throat when her warm hand touched the faded stubble on his jaw, trailing her fingertips up his beaten face. The expression on her face was unreadable. Her brows were drawn together into a frown, but her eyes twinkled with something else. "You've gotten ugly―"
"Shut up," he interrupted, unable to bear the tension anymore. Following his harsh words came a hug so tight that Dianna groaned into it, hugging back nevertheless. He was afraid she would slip through his fingers, become a phantom once again. He could not live that a second time. Not after this reunion. If anything happened to her again. . . At the thought, he loosened his hold, worrying he would hurt her. "How?"
Dianna pushed a bit away, tilting her head to look back into his face. She shook her head, biting back her lip. Her doe eyes glistened with held back tears, which threatened to spill as she spoke. "Don't know. Don't care."
"But―" He held those words back, allowing them to get lost in the air. Dianna was right, they should not care how she had made it back with the living. What mattered was that she did. He would not waste any of their time together with those questions, it would only steal away the contentment.
In a blink, the girl had stepped away from him, flashing one of the brightest smiles he remembered seeing. She looked gleeful to be back. He tried to reach out to her one more time, the thought of her walking away and never coming back passed his mind. But she was still there, standing with all the vitality in the world. Her eyes moved to the left, urging him to do the same. That flashy smile twisted into a knowing grin.
He caught sight of a jittery Artemisia Robin. She was making her way back from Zach, arms extending as a warning of her following movements. Sooner than he anticipated, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his neck. "Dick!" She breathed over his shoulder, her breath causing something strange to his skin. Was it goosebumps?
Dick shook it off. He was still sensitive from his unexpected reunion. Hell, he even wanted to glance in Dianna's direction just to make sure she had not evaporated.
A slight tremble under his grip annihilated that need. It took him by surprise. He pushed her away, maybe a bit too harsh ( he guessed so by the pained expression on her face ), both of his hands rested on her shoulders, scanning her face. "Are you okay?" He suddenly remembered the entire deal. The cause of Dianna's comeback. "Is Rachel okay?"
"We're fine." Artemisia Robin's fingers curled around his wrist, offering a gentle squeeze to reassure her statement. Her head tilted to a side, lips tugging into a shy smile. "If anything, better. I feel like I could punch a hole in the sky."
Dick chuckled. Like, actually chuckled. It reverberated through his ribcage like it hadn't done in a long time. No one had made him laugh like this. Even with a silly comment like hers. At the thought, he looked down with a ghost of shame. This was so unlike him. It was as though seeing Dianna again had unlocked a part of him that enjoyed life.
"What's stopping you?" He asked after a while, daring to peak through his timid angle.
She frowned and wheeled her eyes dramatically, suggesting the answer was obvious. Nonetheless, she responded to his, apparently, stupid question. "My inability to fly."
"Right," he let out another chuckle, more airy this time. Robin imitated his emotion, reaching with her free hand for his other wrist, holding them both with care. He stared at her for a few more seconds, his posture straightening as he gained confidence by just looking at her eyes. "There had to be one thing you couldn't do."
Artemisia's face finally broke into a beaming smile, shattering those barriers that held her back. He had been wrong before. When he said Dianna's smile was the brightest he had ever seen. Back then, he had only focused on the relived girl, but now that he had been freed from his worry, he saw the truth. It had tagged along with him for weeks, uninvited at first.
Dick had started to smile back, easing into her touch and the moment. But then her smile had faltered for a second, her grip on his wrist dropping. A flash of embarrassment tinted her dark eyes as she took a step back from him, peeling away her warmth. His chest was begging him to move forward, have her back with him.
The job was done by an external force. More confident than the two adults. A growing teenager that forced them back together by linking her arms around them both. As her pale arm touched his back, Dick saw things in slow motion, each detail imprinting into his brain.
Artemisia Robin's eyes widened as Rachel hooked her arm around her neck, propelling her forward. She struggled against the force, wishing to decrease the sudden impact. Thanks to her efforts, her head came to rest on his chest with less force. Yet, it still knocked Dick's breath out, but for different reasons.
Trapped among those warm arms, she glanced up for help, or at least that's what Dick read in her eyes as he looked into them. He also saw comfort, and somehow it made sense. Even if they had been forced into a second hug, she felt safe among them. He made her feel like that. The thought exploded in his chest. His eyes closed to sense that strange feeling that appeared.
Was it pride over the new discovery? Usually, people would get nervous around him and he could not blame them, after all, that was his point. Build those walls up to keep everyone away. Yet, here was this woman that climbed those rough edges and found his true, hidden self. It was scary to think of it. Sometimes, not even he felt secure in his own mind.
Before that train of thought could crash into his brain, and force him to build up a second queue of murals in fright, the arm that looped him into this embrace retreated. Rachel let out a gleeful laugh, glancing between the two people that had stuck together for most of the adventure. "I'm so glad I met you guys," the girl sighed dreamily, shoulders losing tension by just admitting that.
"Wish it was under better circumstances," Dick offered. It had been an eventful period. He wished many things had been different. Including all those times he tried to run away from his problems and them.
Artemisia shook her head at that, nose scrunching slightly with disapproval. He quirked his eyebrow at that. "I liked it this way. Wouldn't have had it any other way," she explained to them as her fingers went to tug that stray hair back into its place. A sign of hesitation or shyness, she always did that on named occasions. He wondered which was the case then.
"I would," came a contradicting voice. They turned to look at the teenager who had watched that entire scene develop before her. Must have felt sort of weird, seeing all that affection and taking no place in it. "'Cause I was there the whole time, too, but no one actually saw me. And now it's a bit awkward." Dianna bit on her lip, looking at the dead grass below her worn shoes. "I know pretty much everything about you. But you know nothing of me. Weird!"
Weird would be an understatement. She had just been inserted into this reality that had moved on without her, filled with people to who she was nothing but a stranger. Maybe ( Dick didn't remember well ), a name he had once mentioned.
Artemisia Robin took the lead in the situation. After all, they had been connected for years, forced to get to know one another. Dianna watched with nervousness as the woman approached her. By the glaze in her eyes, Dick could tell she was still unused to interactions.
"Come on, let's introduce you to everyone." She smiled, hooking her fingers around Dianna's. "Again." The girl took one step, glanced at the group of strangers, swallowed, then took a second stride. She huffed out that worry and continued to approach the confused team.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"I gotta give it to you, Rach, you really know how to throw a party," Dawn's calming voice broke through the slight tension amongst the group. They all hated the idea of parting ways, though no one wanted to say it ―not even Dick, who usually was the coldest one in the team―.
Dick smiled at the silver-haired woman, catching her leaning closer to Hank against their van. They shared a smile unlike the others in the past. Friendly. Nice. Both had moved on. All the friction that once existed due to their relationship had vanished. Dawn had Hank, and Dick had― well, the kids and Kory, and Artemisia Robin.
But of course, nice moments like such can only last for so long. Especially if Jason Todd is anywhere near. "Yeah, do it again." The boy smirked from ear to ear as Dick snapped his head around. "'Love beating Dick's ass."
"Keep dreaming, bird boy." Dick pushed past the boy. Maybe a bit harsh. Entirely on purpose.
Jason shoved him back in a playful manner, or at least what seemed to be. See, the teen was sort of hard to read. "Nice one. Really inventive."
Now that the suit was off him, Dick could finally recycle all of those nicknames Donna and Hank had called him. They had irked him then, and they looked to do the same on Jason. More and more mock names popped into his head, making him grin just as wide as the boy. A fraction less disturbing.
"Maybe give us a heads-up next time so I can do my own eye makeup," Donna chimed shyly, reeling back the conversation towards Dawn's comment. "Your demon dad wasn't much for subtlety."
Dick had pushed a bag in the trunk, making space for the teens to climb inside when the time came. Soon, he hoped. Though, by the looks of it, they seemed to be delaying the inevitable. Just as he moved away, he caught Kory's gaze as she spoke. "Really? I kinda liked it. It was really gothic, you know?"
"Uh. . . I didn't." Garfield rose his hand timidly. Dick gave him a side look, not baring to confront what he and the others had done. They could have stopped it. All of them were conscious. Yet none fought those commands that asked them to beat the kid to death. Dick felt like punching the nearest object to relieve that self-hatred that boiled on his chest.
"Hey, man, again, we're really sorry." Hank's expression was genuine, allowing himself to be weak for just a second. He truly regretted it. And there had been a minuscule amount of things that man repented. Dick caught the way his fist punched into his other hand, muscles flexing in anger. He decided to try that out.
"No, it's cool," Garfield said with a smile. Who was he trying to convince was doubtful. Dick sent him a concerned glance, not believing his words. Garfield broke into a wider smile. "Hey, I know it wasn't really you guys. It couldn't have been. Dick was actually kinda funny, in a weird, psycho way."
Dick chuckled. What else could he have done? Continue to push until the kid actually hated him? Garfield would have to open up eventually. The others followed his actions. He had left them in a tough spot.
Breaking that awkwardness, Artemisia emerged from the front of the car, rubbing her face from grease. She approached the group that would soon speed the other way with open arms. They did not know how much time would pass. She first caught Dawn into a tight embrace, rocking her around. "Don't have too much fun without us."
Dawn pulled away and responded with a "never," before moving on to the next person who wished to hug her. Rachel wasted no time in hugging the woman.
"So, where are you goin'?" Hank spoke, folding his arms around his chest before Artemisia had a chance to approach him. Dick smiled as the woman moved on, though she first pointed a finger at the man, warning that she would be back for that hug.
Rachel high-fived the man and turned just for an instant to face Dick, her new hair flowing with every action she made. "Um. . . Where are we going?"
Dick moved away from the vehicle, furrowing his eyebrows in ponder. He did not have a clue. And, at the same time, he had tons of ideas. So many places to drive around and explore with them. "I don't know. It's a mystery."
"Some things never change," Dawn commented at Rachel's rasping, a smile hanging on her face.
Artemisia walked once again into Dick's sight, an expression of determination plastered on her face. "Let's make sure they do cause it's starting to get annoying." Her head snapped in the direction of Dawn and her boyfriend, pinning him with an intense scowl. "Right, Hank?"
"You're still on about that hug? Just drop it." The man said with a firm shake of his head. Those who had been around him for long enough had learned that Hank was not an emotionally physical person. Hell, even expressing himself had proven to be a tricky task.
"Uh, no." Artemisia's palms rested by her hips. It did not matter that Hank dwarfed her at that moment, her stance and frown made him an equal. And he listened to her. "We won't be seeing each other in forever. One little hug and I'm out of your shoes until then."
Hank chuckled, finding that small portion that would benefit him. "I liked the sound of that―"
"I'll take it as a yes!"
Before the man could even react, she had jumped on her tiptoes, lurched forward, and forced him into an embrace. Both of her arms wrapped around his biceps ( hence she was still too short even to reach his shoulders ), making him lean down with her weight.
Hank's eyes were comically wide, taken by surprise at her sudden move. At his expression, everyone else burst into a fit of laughter.
Dick found himself punching his palm a second time, releasing some anger that surged out of nowhere. Well, he actually did not wish to admit to himself the actual reason. He had a clear idea of what the cause was. It was the sight before him, the thought of history repeating itself. Losing someone else he cared about to the same man.
The stress begins to lift off when Artemisia is suddenly raised from the ground, moved a few steps away, and dropped with a cheerful yelp. As if nothing had happened, she swiveled on her heel and made her way back to the vehicle with a giant grin. She did not hesitate to offer Donna a fist bump on her way over, a preserving manner of saluting someone she had barely met. Hank's groan could be heard over Kory's laugh.
Dick began to move after her, coming up with a small talk right that instant. He was about to reach towards the backseat doors when a shower of fuchsia curls filled his vision. Kory had had the same idea as him. "So, you caught the road bug, huh?" She asked, joining the woman on leaning against the car.
"Well, there's pizza and bag coffee every day," Artemisia said with a wistful sigh, as though her mind was back to those nerve-wracking nights. One evening worse than the other. But they managed to come through. And here they were, preparing for a second adventure. "What's not to love?"
"Don't forget about the cheap booze and heavily scented sheets," Dick pointed while leaning into her other side.
Artemisia made a face of disgust, an exaggerated version of that night when she first tasted the adult part of being in the road. "Ugh, I hate those."
Kory smiled at her reaction, sending a frown towards Dick. They were thinking the same: how could someone hate such a tasteful bargain? If someone were to ask him, he would say it was his favorite thing without hesitation.
"It's nice you're taking the kids," Kory continued, offering them both a grin this time. Artemisia looked over towards the teens, expression softening at the sight of them saying their goodbyes. "You're good with them, in your own, strange ways."
"Hey, so are you," Artemisia replied with a soft punch against Kory's shoulder. A pained ghost danced over her face. They had not spent much time together, but the period they did had built a tough bond. One that surely hurt to break apart. Dick was feeling the same. "We still have space, if you want."
"So not for me right now." Kory's vibrant curls bounced with her head as she shook it. The smile on her face never left. "I suppose I should figure out my next move."
Dick stepped an inch closer to the pair, inviting himself to join. "Any thoughts?"
"Maybe a few. I'll let you know when I decide."
Rachel appeared from behind the taller woman, eyebrows raised as she listened in to the last words. "Another mystery?"
Dick laughed at her expression ( the same one she had worn when Dick had announced they had no destination for their trip ). He was not a person who enjoyed facing mystery but putting them before someone was surely entertaining. "Get used to it. Life's a lot better with them."
"That sounds like something Batman would say," Rachel sighed. And she was right. Bruce had been the one that made him despise mysteries by turning his life into one.
A mop of green hair and shining whites materialized among them when the distinguished name was dropped. Garfield appeared fine behind his scarred and bruised skin. "Do we get to meet him this time?"
"Uh, no," Dick replied on instinct. If there was any way of solving the unspoken uneasiness he felt after beating the kid up, it was through humor. At least his humor. "We're meeting Superman."
Garfield chuckled with excitement. "Seriously?"
"No. Get in the car." The boy's smile dropped. Dick's grew bigger when Kory and Artemisia laughed at his mean teasing.
Like three little dogs, the teens perked up their heads at the command, pure energy fueling his next moves. "Shotgun!" One of them yelled, causing Artemisia to imitate their reaction, a frown folding onto her face.
"Nope, that place is mine, back off!"
The warning was enough to slow them down. None of them tried to reach the passenger seat's door. They climbed on the back ( Rachel and Garfield taking the two free seats in the first row, and Jason settling by the second ), they rolled down the windows and stretched their heads out, yelling their goodbyes for the third time.
Dick noticed as Artemisia took that opportunity to squeeze Kory's hand and walk past her, opening her arms for a final, awaited hug with Zachary. It was a heartwarming sight. She had waited for him to come the whole time. Things went south when he appeared, meaning they barely spent any time with one another.
And now, they had to become independent. One wished to stay with the kids, help them find their way back to normality. The other, to explore this bigger world they discovered: heroic alliances. Zach wanted to help Kory, know more about Donna's ways, leap into the official role of vigilante.
They pushed away before it became hard to let go. Artemisia took some steps back, fists clenched by her side, fighting the urge to embrace her friend a second time. Maybe even a third.
"Hey, I mean this in the best possible way. It's really been fun, but let's not meet like this again for a while, huh?" Dawn suggested after some instants. And though it had not been what Dick wanted to hear, her tone had softened it up. Hank and Donna agreed with her statement.
Maybe they were right. It had been a very stressful reunion for the Titans. And a dark event where they lost their minds to their deepest desires. Dick did not want to go through that again. He would have to find another excuse to gather them all.
"It's a deal," he assured with a nod. His eyes followed as Artemisia reached the car, politely waiting for their exchange to end. Dick turned on his heel and grinned. He could not leave them behind without an infamous Grayson goodbye. "I'm kidding."
Hank broke into a hushed laugh, "He's an asshole. He did that on purpose."
Dick shook his head while he climbed into the driver's seat, throwing a hand in the air and waving at his friends. He shut the door as Artemisia's opened and she plopped down, closing hers right after. She heaved out a sigh and shrank into the seat.
He glanced towards the back seats on the rear mirror, catching Rachel and Garfield on some new, silly argument; Jason focusing on his phone, and Dianna staring at the forest that surrounded them ( she had said her goodbyes a while ago, finding no reason to loom around strangers ).
The car rumbled into life below them. Dick honked twice and stepped on the gas, leaving behind that days' stressful events. The figures left behind began to shrink.
Not wishing to discover the feelings that could surge in the upcoming silence, he reached to put on some music, only to find a hand already doing the favors. He pulled away and allowed Artemisia to play whatever she wanted.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Artemisia whistled by Dick's side, admiring the grand structure he had once called home. For a very short time, that was. And mostly to make other kids envy him. But now he could actually link the word to this place, and the people that waited for him inside. Home. The word did not feel alienated to his lips anymore.
He stopped the car, hesitating to pull the keys out. With every step he made, the closer he got to enter the house. He felt some variation of panic. Not the sort that kept him alive for these past years, but the kind that barked at him not to confront Bruce. Inspiring it was a feeble-minded move.
It wasn't like he loathed the man. Not anymore. The emotion leaned more towards regret. He had left one night and dishonored every teaching he received. There was no doubt the man had observed his every action, surely getting disappointed each night more.
An icy hand on his bicep nearly made him jump. He shot his head towards his company, having almost disremembered she was even there. Her skin opposed his perspiring state, muscles burning hot with firmness. And then, to defy his mind, she spoke calmly, almost in a murmur. "Are you okay?"
He could only nod as an answer, his brain had gone spiraling back to his decision of asking her to come along. What an amazing thought he had had. He could not remember how it formed, just that it came and he allowed it to go past his tongue.
It had been earlier that day. The teens had just started to wake up ( Jason, as always, complaining about something -this time, it had been the smell of his sheets and the poor quality of the motel- ) and prepare themselves some unhealthy breakfast. Dick and Artemisia had been awake for quite a while by then, their empty cups of coffee still set on the small table.
The prior night, Dick had announced he would be leaving in the morning and returning a bit later. So, they had tried to get up early to say goodbye, a task they barely accomplished. He had been ready to head out when Garfield's bladder woke him up, and his hurry startling the others awake.
After their half-aware waves, Artemisia had accompanied him outside, preparing to bid him a proper see you soon. She also had wanted to know a bit more of this personal mission of his, a question she brought up as he unlocked the car. He had explained briefly about his meeting with Bruce and needing to talk things over. Also, ask him a crucial favor.
"Good luck, then," she said with a tired smile. He nodded at her words, feeling just as exhausted. They had barely slept at night, the motel was too unfamiliar to snooze soundly. "You can do this."
Something about her babbling reassurances really did some work on him. Her effortless pledges made a change, furnishing him the confidence he needed to unlock the car's door. But it was as far as it had fueled. He had figured he would need more of that encouragement to ascend the steps to the mansion.
"You wanna come?" There it was the best plan ever. No need to think it over. Simple as it sounded. Artemisia had beamed as radiant as the prime sun, doing the job of awakening him. It had served as a cup of coffee, providing energy to continue.
Though her cheerful behavior had calmed with aid of the long ride and jazzy music, her vigor still kept him on his right mind. Her hand traveled down, catching his hand and pulling it from the steering wheel with careful force. He had started to tense again. An itch in the back of his head that put him alert.
"We should get out of the car, I think he's been watching us for a while now," Artemisia suggested gently, her head tilting in direction of the mansion. Her eyes urged him to drop whatever was going on and get on with his purpose in Gotham.
He followed her gesture, finding the source of his sudden uneasiness. Bruce was leaning by the stone pillars near the main gates. His gaze was fixated on both of them. Was he judging the pair? Dick's hand dropped from sight, dragging Artemisia's along. Or was Bruce studying how much had he changed since their last encounter? To that idea, Dick straightened in his seat, puffing out his chest.
The man must have noticed Dick's actions, for his head tilted mockingly― no, questioning at his direction. It had been a silent battle that he lost. The older man always had the upper hand somehow. Age equals experience or some bullshit like that, he guessed.
Clearing his throat, Dick turned back to Artemisia ( whose expression would later register in his mind as comical; she had seen and understood their exchange ). "We shouldn't keep him waiting much longer. Let's go."
Both rushed out of the car, shut the doors, and stopped. Dick waited a few seconds, seeing that his companion had been once more captivated by the luxury standing before them. He wished to glimpse her reaction, maybe enjoy himself for a moment with her dramatic expressions. But the moment he moved from his spot, the woman turned, her muscles molding back into a resting face.
Dick decided to take the lead since he was the one familiar with the home and those who resided in it. He could hear Artemisia's boots on the pebbles, indicating she was shadowing him. His strong gaze was glued on the man ahead, jaw tightening the more they grew closer.
In a puff of air, they were suddenly three feet away from one another. Bruce rose his chin, playing the etiquette. "Richard. Good to see you again." He seized Dick's hand, turned it over, and wrapped it with his other. A sharp squeeze, then he freed it. "And. . ."
Dick rubbed his sweaty hand against his jeans with discretion as his guest took a confident stride closer, extending her rough hand with politeness. "Artemisia. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne."
"Pleasure's mine," Bruce caught her hand, making Dick's head spiral. Usually, Bruce would kiss a woman's hand, it had become a normal sight. However, as he was about to receive Artemisia into his house, Dick did not want him to. This was his friend, for fuck's sake. Very few times he brought people home, and he always told Bruce to act normal when meeting them. He usually just shook their hands and told them to feel at home. Would he even remember his request?
Bruce did the same thing with Artemisia as he had done with Dick. Wrap and squeeze. Seconds later, her hand was tugged back into safety as the millionaire in front of them reopened the wooden gates.
"Should we go inside?" He questioned, using his heel to push the left door, offering a wider glimpse of the inside. Artemisia went quiet again, absolutely shocked by the riches. "I suppose there's some talking to be done?"
"Yes, please." Dick suggested towards the entrance, hurrying the older man whilst also asking for permission. He did not know how to behave in here. This had been his home. But coming back after everything made it feel somewhat strange.
Bruce took the lead, inviting his guests inside, leading them through a hallway decorated with bookshelves. Dick caught a glimpse of one get had read when he first arrived. He didn't exactly remember the name, but the silhouette by its spine had been melted into his memory. He took one glance at it, not wanting to glue himself on the spot due to nostalgia.
The echoing creak under their feet had started to become irritating. Dick did not recall the house being as loud. He sort of understood, now, how Bruce always caught him whenever he sneaked out: there wasn't such thing as sneaking in a house so large, empty, and loud.
Such noise must have annoyed Bruce because he began talking. The silent Bruce Wayne started an actual conversation. "I hadn't heard from you for a while. When Alfred mentioned you wished to stop by, I'll admit, I was surprised."
But then, a second miracle occurred. Dick found himself continuing that small talk. Something he had learned ( and had been told on countless opportunities ) he was not good at. "It's not like you, Bruce, to be surprised."
"True. I try not to make it a habit," Bruce explained as he came to a short halt, then turned on his heel towards the main living room. Dick didn't even take a glance around, the area had looked the same since before he was brought in. "I see you made the news with your old Titans friends. And some new ones, too."
At that, Bruce shot a smile in Artemisia's direction. One she never caught sight of ( a lost opportunity, she probably never will again ). The woman had been busy gawking at every little thing that furnished the room. Including those simple things that anyone would have at their homes, but became so much interesting when placed on a millionaire's home.
Bruce raised his brows, studying his companion for a few more seconds before turning back to Dick. "You've been very busy." Dick hummed in answer, agreeing with his statement. "But that's not the reason you've come to see me."
"No. I never got the chance to talk to you about why I left. It wasn't exactly on great terms." Dick puffed out some air, fearing the end of the upcoming conversation. He began moving towards the large leather couches, bringing Artemisia with him by the hand. Though, he tried to conceal it from Bruce, not wanting to raise any questions. They plopped down on the squeaky material, breaking the touch.
Mirroring their actions, Bruce settled on the other couch to face them. One leg comfortably crossed over the other. He seemed unaware of what Dick had over-thought. "In my experience, when people part, it rarely is. Are you sure this is the right timing?"
Dick knew he was talking about Artemisia. In the past, it was hard for him to open up, especially when someone else was in the room. It had taken years before he also trusted Alfred. But things were different now. He had changed. And having her here made expressing himself easier. "Yes," he answered instantly. "I don't wanna make a big thing out of this. I just wanna say a few simple things to clear the air."
A long inhale of air, stealing all energy in the room to be able to push certain things off his chest. It was about time he did it. And then, he spilled it all out. He began telling with his departure and how he still had his mind tangled in Gotham, struggling every day with that growing darkness. How it hurt him and others ( at that moment, a small realization hit him and he had sent an apologetic glance towards Artemisia ).
She had smiled back, sort of comprehending his evolution. He even saw it himself. At the start, he had searched for ways to push her off, even when she had proven herself trustworthy. But as their adventure got longer and tougher, he softened up. They were there to help one another and he had, eventually, understood that.
His gaze lingered on her face for a few more seconds, taking in her genuineness. Taking another breath, he turned back to Bruce. A few more seconds passed as he tried to recall where they had left off. Then, "the whole time, I thought it was because of the way you raised me, the way you weaponized my childhood."
"That's one way of putting it," Bruce scoffed. A flash of hurt passed through his expression, and Dick had been unfortunate to catch it.
For a second, he felt guilty for coming into his house and accusing him of such a thing. But these things had to be spoken of in order to heal. It was the final step to do so. Then, he would be able to move on, focus on other things. So, Dick decided to ignore the comment. "Point is, I blamed you for a lot of things that may or may not have been your fault."
"I see. So you've decided which one it is now, and you've come to render a verdict," Bruce deduced, a knowing grin tugging on his thin lips.
Dick mirrored his reaction for a split second. He would be taking Bruce by surprise a second time. "No. It doesn't matter anymore, the why or how. I know you only did what you knew, what you thought was best for me. The training. . . everything. You only did it so I would focus on something other than being angry and sad about what happened to my parents."
Bruce nodded along with his explanation, seriously considering his words. It showed how both had matured since Dick left for Detroit. He now listened to him, believing he carried knowledge worth learning. But then, he frowned, bringing back a past moment of his monologue. "And this, uh. . . This darkness you mentioned. . ."
"I had to let it go in order to move on. It was stopping me from realizing all the things you did that helped me." His words were starting to feel right. Not just a studied presentation. As Bruce deviated the chatter from his original idea, true answers were sprouting. Not just out of his mouth, but also his body language.
"I'd be curious to know what you think those things are," Bruce unconsciously leaned closer, interested in what great teachings he had done. Sure, there were some mistakes, but Dick had also learned something from them. How not to treat a kid, for example. Though, he did have his own errors.
Dick smiled ( he could not remember a day he had smiled this much ). "Maybe another time."
"Cryptic," Bruce pointed with a proud smile. He leaned back on the couch, understanding he would not get past that line. He had taught him well. "Well done."
"I learned from the best," Dick complimented back, but unlike his tutor, he leaned his elbows forward to rest on his knees.
"Ah, I see now," Artemisia's voice caught him off guard, making him lose that comfortable position. She was grinning from ear to ear, gaze on Bruce, staring knowingly. Her eyes suddenly flickered to him, making his world stop for an instant. "That's where he got it from."
"Dick's a great learner," called from his seat Bruce, agreeing with her words, praising him for catching and continuing those small things. The man cleared his throat and unwrapped his legs, staring at his squeaky-clean shoes. "Well, I appreciate you coming by. Things haven't been the same since you left."
"You mean with Jason Todd?"
Diverting his attention for a moment, Bruce reached for three glasses that had been placed upside down, turning them the right way. He shot a questioning glance at Dick, offering him some of the liquor he kept in reach distance from the couches. He received a bob of his head, then turned to Artemisia with that same look, but she refused the drink.
He flipped one glass back into position, focusing on the other two. "He's shown great promise, as you know. Though there are some rough edges that could use sanding down." Grabbing the bottle, he served both glasses to their half, managing to get both an equal amount. "Perhaps after this conversation, I'll take an entirely new approach."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Dick chuckled, reaching for that serve of expensive drink. He wasted no time bringing it to his lips, savoring that sharp bitterness Artemisia had once found disgusting. It was probably the reason she had denied the ginger liquid in the first place. That, and the many memories a cheaper version of this drink brought.
"Fair enough." Bruce played with the drink in his glass, entertained as the liquid followed his movements. After some seconds of squinting his eyes at the drink, he took it into his mouth, swallowing without any grimacing. "If there's anything you need, you let me know."
Dick moved even further into the rim of the couch, placing his nearly finished drink into the table. "Well, as a matter of fact, there is. I've been thinkin' about San Francisco."
"Titans again," Bruce deduced, taking a second large gulp.
Suddenly feeling empty-handed, he dropped his hand onto the couch, caressing the leather under his palm. "Maybe it's time for a do-over." His digits came into contact with a second warm body. He looked down at them, glancing at the way their fingers had started to casually tangle with one another. Dick darted his eyes towards Artemisia's face, very much shocked by her casual boldness.
She stared back at him, smiling at the subject of the conversation. Bringing the Titans back ( a group she and Zach had been fanatics of - according to the many stories she had told on the ride ) had lifted her mood impossibly higher. He gave a gentle squeeze to their link, then he turned back to Bruce.
The man was looking at their tangled hands, many thoughts flashing behind his eyes. His gaze had trailed from their affection towards Dick, whose stare bore into his mind. Bruce looked at him surprised because he had read Dick's expression with ease. The younger man could not care any less of what he thought of such small action.
"On one condition," Bruce moved on. He leaned over the table and deposited his glass before leaning back. The pair started at him with wonder. What could he possibly want in exchange for the Tower?
Artemisia pulled her fingers from his, leaving a cold ghost, and rubbed her hands together. "Let's hear it."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
So here's a long-ass freaking chapter...
it took me quite a while, actually. I've been really busy lately and I can't manage my time like I used to.
But don't worry cause writing and creating is something I love and will always find the space to do it, it just might not be the same and updates will take longer.
Hope you understand and enjoy! <3