Chapter Text
Dick had never been hit by Bruce, and neither had any of his siblings until now. The man's smile instantly dropped, and his body froze once he heard it. The echoing of someone being hit with an open palm full force filled the room as Dick's heart shuddered.
His body moved on autopilot, turning to see a scene that he never imagined he ever could. On the ground, with an expression that destroyed the man, was Tim.
He didn't even bother to touch his cheek as blood swelled up and turned his once pale skin a bright, angry red. He stared at their father momentarily with a blank, almost glazed glance before looking at Dick.
This month had been really rough with numerous heroes being nosy about the true nature of their operation. Dick hated to admit it, but he was positive Jason had told someone and that someone had blabbed to the entire Justice League.
The raven-haired man had to grit his teeth more than once as Bruce became harsher with his instructions and more critical about anything the siblings did. More than once he caught Stephanie balling her hands into fists to keep from walking out of the cave after a bad argument between the two. Dami had no issue snapping at his father and had been benched until Bruce felt he deserved his position back.
Even with all of that drama and turmoil, Dick would not accept this. Nobody deserved to be hit here. His siblings were off limits. They had long proved their loyalty to Bruce and his mission of cleansing Gotham (and maybe the world) of crime. All of them had put everything they had on the line. Their identities had been forfeited along with their lives, and this was how he repaid them?
Dick let out a long, tense breath that made Tim get up. The younger man was hurt but not badly. He seemed aware of what was about to go down and scrambled to leave. Dick wanted to stop Tim and ask him if he was alright, but that would have to wait.
He needed to talk to Bruce and figure out what the hell was on his mind. That slap would be the last to ever happen, and he would have to kill the acrobat if he wanted to otherwise. His chest was squeezing so tight it was hard to focus as Bruce faced him. He looked guilty, but that didn't matter.
"The pain of Jason's betrayal is not an excuse to beat a loyal soldier. Much less, your son." He hadn't sounded this mad in years.
Back when Bruce told him that he fucked up.
That he thought that monster was bluffing and that Jason would never be hurt. The day he found out they had buried him without Dick's knowledge, and he had to find his brother cold in the ground all by himself. Because Bruce told him that he truly believed that Jason wouldn't die that fateful night and that it would work out because it always did.
They never lost. They always won. But they lost, and Jason died, and he hated them now. His brother came back, and he was so different. He didn't believe in their cause anymore. All that progress Bruce and Dick had made was wiped away with one spell. One revival.
No way in hell was Dick letting his father make that mistake again and drive Tim away too. Tim was loyal even if he was upset about how he was being treated. His brother was so goddamn smart; he was dating a possible superweapon, and Dick didn't have to ask him to. Tim was useful, and Bruce still hurt him.
"Tim loves you. I bet he'll still love you after this and still try to get your attention. He begged you to join us even when you refused him. How could he be the one you take out your rage on?"
Tim had been so innocent back then. All he knew was what Bruce allowed the world to see, and he assumed it was factual, like any child would. He came, begging to join them on their crusade against people like that rat bastard who killed Jason all those years ago.
They had rejected him, but Tim still kept coming, and Dick admired that. He came to love the boy, now a man. He loved how Tim was and how he came to be under their tutelage. Dick felt sick as he replayed the way Tim was sprawled on the ground in his head again.
His stomach rolled, and if Dick wasn't so focused on laying into the graying man, he would vomit. It had been how many years since he'd come under the man's care...ten...twenty years or so since Bruce took him in. Saved him from the system and who knows what else was out there.
Fed him, clothed him, and allowed him to attend the best educational institutions. He was a good father back then. He was attentive and gave Dick his undivided attention whenever he needed it. The middle schooler had been so grateful that he instantly agreed to don the moniker of Talon.
That man was long gone, as was the boy who proudly performed at his family's circus. Dick was faced with a man who felt like the entire world was against him, and honestly, he very well may be right. The acrobat had been confronted twice by other vigilantes about what the hell was going on in their household as of late.
He was uncomfortable with this and always gave the same answer. They had some dysfunction, but they were fine. There was never any abuse. Bruce was just a hardass sometimes; that was all there ever was to the situation. Anything else were lies.
"You need to get your shit together. All the kids are walking on eggshells because anytime you come near them, you explode. Regain composure before they lose their trust in you." He didn't even allow Bruce to respond before he left the room in a rush.
Tim was where he was expected to be. Sitting at the kitchen counter with a blank expression on his face. Fuck. Why was it so common to see him spaced out like that? Dick's therapist had told him dissociation was normal in high-stress situations in the past and recommended getting Tim his own person to talk to.
He never bothered to ask the man if he would be interested in doing that because there was never any time. The Jason situation had thrown their lives into a tailspin. Any extra time he had was spent on him doing damage control and trying to hunt their rogue sibling down. He felt like he had failed Tim again. Like always.
"I'm okay, Dick." Tim's voice was raw like he had been screaming for hours, but Dick had no memory of this happening. "I've been hurt worse in the past."
Dick shook his head. "Doesn't matter. He still shouldn't have hit you." There was no other way to see the situation in the man's eyes.
It was unnerving how calm Tim was. "I didn't want to get you involved in my drama with Bruce. I'm fine, I promise. You look like you're about to pass out, so please sit with me."
Shit. Dick hadn't even noticed how sweaty he had become. He cleared his dry throat and sat down right next to his brother. Immediately, he winced at the sight of his developing bruise. He would kill Bruce, dammit. He was going to skin him alive.
"I'm sorry for being such an asshole lately. I heard what Jason said to you, and I have been wanting to tell you, none of that is true. You're not a bad person for choosing to stick around for us." Tim's outward appearance was that of a doll, unmoving and still despite the heaviness of his words.
Dick frowned. "You don't have to apologize, Tim. I should be apologizing for walking away when I could see Bruce was getting so wound up."
A hand grabbed his, and Tim squeezed it in an attempt to be reassuring. But he felt so cold, with his grasp being unexpectedly weak for someone who fought crooks day and night. Damn, when was the last time his brother ate this week?
"Dick. Stop. It's not your fault I got hit, and it's not your fault Jason decided to run off to who knows where after your argument. He chose to leave." Tim held onto him tightly as if to pull him into reality.
The words made sense, but at the same time Dick struggled to process them. He did feel like he handled the conversation with Jason horribly. Telling him to talk to Bruce had been so stupid.
He honestly was confused why he even said it in the first place. The confrontation would have been violent, and Dick didn't want to hurt his brother.
Because he would always defend Bruce when it truly came down to the end of the line. He had thrown Jason to the wolves with that one, and he wasn't surprised he completely cut them off after that.
Still, going to outsiders and telling them about everything was a shock. One that left him dizzy the moment he was told about it.
"I have been tracking Jason, and he's been running wild lately. Whatever is going on between him and Bruce is something deeper that you didn't cause. None of us have anything to do with it."
This was news to him. "How long?"
Tim shrugged. "Since he started to try and come back into the fold, so three or maybe four years."
Dick's heart sank, and he let out a worrisome exhale. "Tim..." He didn't know what else to say.
He was speaking like Jason was a mark they were targeting and not family. It hurt to see the lack of confliction in Tim's voice when he admitted to stalking their brother for nearly the entire time since his return.
Dick was proud of him for being able to do so unnoticed for so long but distraught at the same time that it was Jason. It wasn't supposed to be this way, but everything got fucked, so now it is.
His brother shook his head and spoke with confidence in his choice. "Jason's unpredictable. He hasn't been one of us for years, Dick. Even when things were different, you told me as much."
Tim wasn't lying, but it still was painful to hear his true view of their brother so boldly stated. He had sat the younger man down once he had his initial meeting with the revived man that turned violent, scarring Tim mentally.
Dick had explained what he could so Tim could understand why Jason has reacted so negatively to his existence. About how it used to just be the two of them and how it all went wrong.
"They were, but I'm sure if we get Jason back and help him everything will smooth over." Dick barely believed the plea he gave and struggled to maintain a smile.
"I doubt that's an option anymore." Tim's cold exterior cracked, and he suddenly sounded worried. "Please, Dick. Let Jason go. Focus on yourself."
Dick wanted to try and explain he could do both of these things at once, but he just diverted the conversation to taking care of Tim's bruise. He knew that Jason had done what he did to get back at Bruce.
That day he had come into the house ready to tear the man to shreds for whatever he believed he did. But Dick still couldn't help feeling that sick, sourness in his stomach at the possibility it was all his fault.