Archive of Our Own ^beta

There were only a few people who were aware of what exactly Dick was. There were only a few people who had seen the aftermath of when he had been taken – of when Batman had run himself into the ground, desperate to find his son, or at the very least his body. There were even fewer people there for the battle that brough Dick back to them, who had heard his snarling as he tried to attack them, and later his screaming when his memory was brough back.

Dick thinks that Roy had always known, even if he had hadn’t been told. Knew that something had happened to Dick when he had been gone, knew that the fairer complexion, darker veins, and golden eyes meant something more than they were letting on.

When Dick told him the truth – about the Court, about his Masters tormenters about Talons – Roy had just pulled him into a hug and said I got you. Dick hadn’t cried, because he wouldn’t (couldn’t, would hate himself if he ever) waste any more tears on them, but he had clung to his friend and chased the comfort he offered. Roy hadn’t shied away after learning the truth, had acted like nothing had happened; would share his food and argue over video games and laugh at stupid videos.

Dick didn’t tell Wally. He couldn’t force the words out of his mouth, his hands wouldn’t weave the signs needed to explain. He knew Roy would understand, knew Roy had a feeling that something dark and twisted had happened whilst he had been gone. But Wally didn’t – Wally thought he was just another metahuman, albeit with an unfortunate power.

Dick couldn’t lose Wally due to the fact that he was forced to become a monster.

So only a very few people knew what he was, and they had all been there for the downfall or had witnessed others suffering from it. None of them saw him as a monster, even if deep down, he still was one.

Alfred still baked him cookies and B still trusted him with his back during patrol. Clark still came over to tell him stories and take him on flights, Diana still trained with him and smiled at him with pride, Uncle Ollie still tried to get him to use a bow and arrows, and ruffled his hair and carried him on his shoulders. J’onn still gave him small smiles and allowed their minds to brush when they were in each other’s company, would indulge in conversations even when they really didn’t need to.

But what would Wally think? What would Kaldur think? What would they do when they found out that their friend, someone training to be a hero, had blood on his hands? What would they do when they found out that he still had thin knives on him, still found himself aiming to kill on some days?

(B would always place a hand on his shoulder and assure him he was okay; he never went through with the attack, always stopped himself from drawing blood and tearing flesh – you have nothing to apologize for, Son.)

One day, perhaps, he would tell them. One day he would be prepared to let them go. But he can cherish what he has, for now.

“I still can’t believe B didn’t tell me about the Watchtower.” Dick said as he looked around their – as in Superboy, Wally, Kaldur, and Dick’s – new base.

He had been to this particular base several times when the League had still used it. He had always found it odd that their new base had been a tourist trap, but he would have never thought the actual base was in literal space. He didn’t need to know all of the League’s secrets – in fact it made sense that he didn’t – but he couldn’t push down the lingering hurt that had flared when he learned he had been tricked. That B and Clark and Uncle Ollie had all lied to him.

“At least we get this sick new place,” Wally said.

“Wasn’t this base abandoned because enemies found it?” Kaldur questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

Dick grinned easily, “That’s what makes it perfect for us, they know that we know that they know where it is.”

Everyone gave him bland looks.

“Exactly, hiding in plain sight.” B said as he walked over to them, “The League has approved of this base being used, but you won’t be left unsupervised. Red Tornado has volunteered to watch you all, while Black Canary has offered to train you.” He leveled them all with a stare. “Do not make us regret this.”

Dick had been the first to be informed of their new base – their new team. Clark had come over for dinner, which Dick had been excited about. Ever since finding out about Superboy, Clark had been tense twenty-four-seven, so having him join for dinner was one step closer to him finally getting out of his funk and possibly think of a possible friendship with his clone. But then Clark and B had told him of the new team and then Dick had fallen between excitement (because, seriously, they were getting their own team!) and terror.

“You – you trust me with that?” Dick had asked, gasping.

“Of course, we do,” Clark had replied, frowning his confusion.

“You are a hero, chum,” B had added, smiling. “We trust you with this.”

A part of Dick still couldn’t keep fear down; that he was going to be on a team with these heroes, and no one knew what he truly was. He had only reverted back to Talon only a handful of times, and that had been during the beginning of his recovery, but it was still a fear that nagged at him daily.

What if he hurt them? What if he went too far on a mission? What if he killed someone again?

(What if they found out he was just a monster in disguise?)

“Rob?” Wally placed a hand on his shoulder and Dick jolted, looking over to him in surprise. Wally gave him a somewhat wary grin, “We’re going to check the place out. You coming?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, shoving his nerves down. “Obviously.”

Dick looked over his shoulder, meeting Batman’s stare, and nodded at his mentor. There was a barely there smile on the hero’s lips, encouraging, proud.

It made him breathe easier.

The team wasn’t exactly what Dick had been expecting. They were unused to working with each other – Superboy was quick to anger, M’gann seemed to fit just outside of their group, Kaldur and Wally were very different from Dick’s normal style of fighting or infiltrating, and Roy. Roy just wasn’t here. They were supposed to work like a well-oiled machine, but their skills as a team left much to be desired.

Dick’s mind was still rattled from when M’gann entered it to set up the mental link for that day's mission. It had gotten easier, the whole linking his mind with the Team thing, but today had been particularly difficult. His mental barriers were locked tight, and his tongue was heavy in his mouth. He wanted to fall back to signing early into the day and especially on the way back to the Cave, but he knew only Wally would understand it.

The Court had…adored mind games. Especially with him.

By the time Dick was falling onto his bed in the Manor, he felt unusually exhausted. Since becoming a Talon, he had always had higher energy stores, slept less than any regular human (no, Bruce didn’t count and Dick’s still pretty sure Alfred is, like, immortal or something), and so when everyone retired for bed, he usually spent his time doing anything but sleeping.

Sometimes he liked the quiet. Sometimes he liked being alone. He had never been alone in the Court – there had always been other Talons or there had always been a Master he was assigned to. The only time he had been alone, he had been cold, and he had only been cold when he had been inadequate.

He learned how to be satisfactory very quickly.

Other times he hated the quiet, hated being alone. Sometimes he could hear how the manor creaked in the silence, how the leaves brushed against the walls outside. Sometimes he could never get warm enough, sometimes he couldn’t get the Court’s voice from his ears.

He learned how to sneak into B’s room and bury himself under the covers, huddle close to his father, and hide from the world. He learned to head to the kitchen and make himself some tea, always to be joined by Alfred by the time the kettle was whistling. He learned to sneak through the window of his room, leaving a text to his guardians that he would be with a friend.

He’s always learned so very quickly.

Dick tilted his head to the side as he watched Roy bound across the rooftops towards him. It had been a while since he’d been able to meet Roy in person – roughly three weeks. He’d grown used to meeting with Roy every weekend, and since his friend had gone solo, the most Dick heard from him was just texts.

“What are you doing here?” Roy asked as he landed in front of him. He wasn’t exactly silent – Oliver was never silent either, though Roy tried to get Dick to teach him the art of silence.

Dick rubbed his lips together at the slightly harsh tone his friend took, hands twitching by his side. Roy’s face softened and he ducked his head slightly.

“Sorry,” he said sincerely, “Ollie’s been bugging me about coming back to being his sidekick. I thought he stuck you on me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Dick nodded his head, shifting his weight. “Would you, um.” He paused, not quite able to meet his friend’s masked eyes. Dick lifted his hands. Would you like some company?

Roy smiled at him. “With you as company? Always.”

Dick offered a small smile back, bouncing over to Roy’s side near the edge of the roof.

“Did you call Wally?” Roy asked, looking at the city, vigilantly.

He has a math exam tomorrow. Dick signed back; He needs sleep.

Roy nodded absently. “You see that?”

Obviously, Dick’s smile was purely Robin, and he slid his grapple gun out of it’s compartment. Race you.

Dick stuck close to his friend – his brother – for the entire night. They swung from rooftops and stopped crimes, cackling, and sharing (signing, in Dick's case) jokes, ending the patrol with a box of pizza set between them on the tallest roof in the area.

Dick wasn’t warm anymore, his veins more like ice than anything. But sitting with Roy and sharing a patrol, it felt like nothing had changed between them. It made Dick’s chest warm.

Like this, it was easy to forget that he wasn’t truly human. Like this it was easy to forget that people looked at him and saw Robin, the Boy Wonder. It was easy to forget just how fragile his control over Talon truly was.

(It was easy to forget that some people preferred Talon to Robin, easy to forget that they would do anything to have it back.)