Fic: As We Grow, Bucky & Robin, PG-13
Title: As We Grow
Fandom: Marvel/DC
Characters: Dick Grayson and Bucky Barnes, with appearances by Bruce Wayne and Steve Rogers
Rating: PG-13 (there's a war; it could scare children)
Length: 3,949 words
Summary: Two boys, two different sets of adventures, and yet so similar in the end.
Notes: The world needs more Barnes and Grayson adventures.
Dick is just a child the first time they meet - they both are, although looking at Bucky Barnes you wouldn't know it. He crouches in a foxhole beneath a makeshift cover of sweet-smelling pine, eyes glinting dangerously beneath his helmet. The only hint of boyhood from the mud-caked boots to the stoney face is a rose flush in his cheeks, and a smile that is impish as can be - when he chooses to show it. As Dick takes in the sight of the boy's blue coat and army gear, he knows the get up is designed to show that he means business. Looking down at his own uniform, Dick begins to wish for the first time that he looked a little more intimidating and less pixie-like. Having something to cover his legs would be nice at the very least. It's beyond cold hiding in the snow.
He has no idea how he ended up where he is. One minute it was Gotham and Hugo Strange, the next he's stumbling through a cold dead forest. Thank goodness for this other kid who seemed to spring out of nowhere and dragged him into the hole they now huddle in. He didn't say much, only that his name was Bucky and Dick had somehow wandered into a warzone.
“Aren't you a bit young to be in a war?” Dick's voice finally breaks the silence between them.
“Not when you've spent your entire life around the army,” replies Bucky. “Besides, Nazis don't care how old you are. They just want you dead.”
Dick still doesn't know how he ended up here, but he's beginning to suspect time travel was involved, and that thought fills him with a cold dread. Mishaps in time and space are a lot of trouble to fix.
“Anyways,” Bucky continues, “what are you doing out here on your own and uh...” He looks Dick over, one eyebrow arching curiously. “Not fond of pants?”
Dick blushes, embarrassed, and draws his knees tighter to his chest. He doesn't get the opportunity to bite back at Bucky's remark though, as the two boys are suddenly interrupted by close rumblings that Dick thinks sound like thunder. Bucky, however, knows better, and sinks down as far into the dirt as he can.
Suddenly, the world around Dick explodes in a din of sound and blinding light. The ground around him shakes, and before he realizes it, he’s thrown himself in the dirt at the bottom of their pit, hands over ears and eyes shut tight. It’s a warzone, he should have realized shells would fall, but things had seemed so quiet.
Dick is afraid. Everything he’s ever experienced in Gotham at the hands of some of the worst villains he’s known does not compare to the forest exploding into splinters around him. He’s going to die huddled in this hole, he’s absolutely sure of it. At any moment a mortar will come crashing through the cover of pine branches and blow him to pieces.
A whimper escapes despite Dick trying to hold it in, coming out a little strangled. But as his mind becomes more and more frantic at his surroundings, Dick becomes aware of a warm hand holding his shoulder gently. With a reassuring squeeze, Dick comes back to the present, chancing a look up at Bucky. The boy is smiling - a look that manages to be both amused and concerned.
“I think of them like fireworks!” he shouts, though Dick can still barely hear. Fireworks from hell, maybe. But before he can say so, one explodes too close and the lights go out in Dick’s world.
There is an unbearable pressure upon him when Dick comes to. He can smell smoke and pine, and tastes dirt. He’s buried under upturned soil and Bucky, and is relieved when the latter shifts and starts to struggle out of the dirt. It means he’s alive. As Bucky gets up, Dick is able to shift the loose dirt aside and raise himself to his knees. They look at each other, both boys now nearly identical, caked entirely in black dirt. The forest around them is now mostly silent again, the rumbling of shells now only a sound of distant thunder.
“That was a close one. They’ve moved on to a different part of the forest now.” Bucky’s face is grim, his brow furrowed. Under all that dirt it makes him seem so much older, and for a moment Dick forgets that they're both only boys.
“Is that where the rest of your outfit is?” asks Dick. Even though the shells sound far away, he still finds himself shivering. It isn't far enough. “You ended up separated?”
A blush creeps into Bucky's cheeks and he sinks back down towards the bottom of the hole. He's silent for a moment, staring moodily at his boots. “This doesn't happen. Ever.” There's frustration in his voice. Dick thinks he's struck a nerve. “I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am.” He looks up and glares at Dick. “And at least I've got pants on instead of looking like some sort of pixie.”
“My outfit suits my line of work just fine,” Dick counters. It isn't a very good comeback, and he's not so sure he likes Bucky all that much at the moment, but the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight - especially in a place like this. If he really has ended up in World War Two, he's extremely lucky to be sharing a foxhole with one of the good guys. He could have just as easily walked into the other side, and Dick doesn't want to think about what might have happened then. What he does want is to go home, eat something hot, and for the world to be right and normal again. So he backs down from the fight Bucky seems to be trying to instigate. At this point he doesn't really care if the boy thinks he's a wimp or that he hasn't got any pants or even tights to go with his scaly green bottoms.
“Well I'm lost. I don't know where I am...”
It takes a moment, but Dick's words seem to take all the fire out of Bucky. He pauses, appears to consider something, and then his expression softens. When he speaks, his tone becomes gentle, sympathetic. “Look, you stick with me and we'll figure it out.” The impish smile is back. “I have friends who can help. If anyone will know what to do, they will.”
It isn't much, but it is some hope, even if Dick isn't too keen on the idea of leaving the safety of the foxhole. They won't though, at least not immediately. Bucky says it isn't safe with night approaching. There's too many trees and too many places for unfriendly eyes to be hiding. Dick shivers at the thought of armed soldiers lurking about. He's seen a lot of things that would give any child nightmares - he still has some of his own sometimes, but while Dick's world is full of killer clowns and violent madmen, there's something about a large army of trained and organized killers that manages to unsettle him.
It isn't long before the cold begins to gnaw away at him either. He tries rubbing his arms and legs, but it just won't work and soon he's lost feeling in his toes. Bucky watches him for a while, and Dick realizes that maybe pants wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. The pine cover above grants them some insulation, but it isn't a lot and certainly not enough.
“Wait here,” Bucky says suddenly, and before Dick can ask him what he's doing or where he's going, the boy is gone. Dick sits very quietly, hoping his teeth aren't chattering too loudly. He can hear Bucky's footsteps fading away and for the moment he's alone, Dick has to work very hard to keep himself calm. But then Bucky's back, dropping back down into the dirt and offering Dick an overcoat that smells off and is spattered with stains he's better off not thinking about. “Just... try not to think about the cold, okay?”
Dick does try, wrapping the oversized coat around him and concentrating on things like tropical beaches, roaring fires, and hot soup. It helps to pass the time as Bucky doesn't make a whole lot of conversation, but Dick finds they're both too busy listening to the sounds around them to say much to each other. A few times there are voices, foreign and unfriendly, causing Bucky to hold his breath and clutch his weapon tightly. But they pass by, and though the darkness above continues to light up with the flashing of shells, they remain distant and don't disturb them.
Dick eventually falls asleep though he isn't aware of when it finally takes him. But eventually it's morning, and Dick can hear the crunching of snow beneath someone's feet. The footsteps are approaching, and at first Dick doesn't think much about them. But then his senses come back to him and he realizes where he is and what that sound could mean. He shakes the sleeping boy next to him, startling Bucky awake. He doesn't say a word; he doesn't have to, as Bucky instinctively listens and nods. Weapon at the ready, Bucky creeps forward to peer out of the hole though he's still frantically trying to scrub the sleep from his eyes. Dick isn't sure how good one kid with a gun is going to be against an army of trained Germans, but there isn't much else either of them can do. But Dick can see Bucky suddenly grin, and it isn't cheeky, or coy, or grim in any way. It is unabashed happiness, and he lets out a long and loud whistle.
The next thing Dick knows is that he's being helped out of the foxhole by a group of American soldiers being led by someone who Bucky claims is his partner: Captain America. Dick isn't too sure what to say to the man. He's a legendary war hero (though that might not be true just yet), and Dick is certain Bruce will never believe the man exists if Dick ever gets back home to tell him about it.
Dick does eventually get back home, and though Bruce listens patiently to Dick's story about the kid in the foxhole and the legendary hero, the smile on his face tells Dick that - sure enough - he doesn't believe a word of it.
Dick is a little older the second time he meets Captain America and Bucky, and it's in his own timeline. As Robin, Dick is used to Gotham's eccentric villains, but one day a man wearing a hideous red skull mask appears. Unlike the villains Dick's used to, this masked man isn't interested in contorting Joker gas, or grand theatrics with him and Batman. He works with guns only, and as Dick watches his mentor work on tracking the criminal down and unravelling a motive for his crimes, he discovers they're all ethnically charged.
One night as he and Bruce are meeting with Gordon, the commissioner introduces them to a man newly arrived from New York. He knows their target well and has come to lend a hand. Dick can hear Bruce make a displeased noise in the back of his throat as two figures step into the open, and Dick is startled to discover that he's once again meeting with Captain America and his sidekick, Bucky.
Dick can't help but notice that there's something not quite right about the pair. The Captain looks just as he remembers, though Dick is left wondering how a man from World War Two hasn't aged a day. But it's Bucky that really grabs his attention and how different he looks. He's slimmer than he was when Dick met him in the foxhole, and his hair isn't as brown as it should be. It's a tad lighter which most people wouldn't notice, but you don't grow up with Gotham's greatest detective and not learn the value of details and acute observation. This Bucky is also too cheerful. As Bruce begrudgingly accepts the star-spangled Avenger's help, Dick ends up spending a lot of time with this Bucky. He's cheeky and impish, but that's all there is to him. He's too much like a child, and there's none of that grimness lurking underneath that Dick saw when they first met. He's too much like him, Dick realizes, cheerful and upbeat like he hasn't actually been through a war.
And then it hits him. This is the same Captain America, but a different Bucky. At first he can't figure out why, but then it dawns on him. The original Bucky must have grown up. “Bucky” isn't a name, so much as it's a title or a code name just like “Robin.” Does it mean they're replaceable? Does it mean he's replaceable? At first Dick is frightened by the idea that Bruce could simply replace him with some other kid. But when he thinks about it a little more, he realizes that he's not going to want to be the Boy Wonder for his entire life. Buckys grow up... and maybe Robins will too.
Robin does grow up, and Dick spends his adult years under a new identity in a new city. He becomes Officer Grayson by day and Nightwing by night, and is all too glad to be rid of the pixie boots and cape. Capes were never very practical for an acrobat, and Dick finds that without it he's a lot more graceful and certainly freer.
He finds himself still returning to Gotham every once in a while, usually to help out Bruce when things get a little too hairy. This is one of those instances, though it isn't exactly Batman that needs help this time. It was Barbara who gave him the information, explaining that a Russian operative was supposedly on his way to Gotham and had Bruce Wayne and his captialist empire set in his crosshairs. He and Bruce argue about the danger. Bruce doesn’t need Dick's protection, and the younger man knows full well that he's quite capable of handling himself in almost any situation. But the persona of Bruce Wayne is of a carefree haphazard playboy, and playing that role does put Bruce at some risk. Dick says he concedes, but he'll be damned if he's going to sit by and do nothing.
As Dick sits on a rooftop, overseeing one of the Wayne Foundation’s many benefits (and the lavish parties that always follow), he's certain his mentor suspects he hasn't left Gotham. But if something were to happen, Dick wouldn't be able to forgive himself. And sure enough, the assassin makes his appearance as little more than a swift shadow moving through the darkness across from Dick. Even though his eyes are sharp, he probably would not have seen a thing but for a brief glint of metal as something catches moonlight.
Dick is on his feet in an instant, moving silently in on his target. The figure doesn't appear to have seen or heard a thing, as it crouches down and takes aim. Simple amateurs, Dick comments in his mind, and makes to pounce. But as he does, the assassin turns at the last second and Dick is stunned to find himself slammed into the ground by something hard. It appears the assailant wasn't so oblivious after all. Dick struggles to catch his breath and scramble back as a gun fires. He manages to get himself back on his feet, dodging the bullet just in time.
As he rights himself, he's able to get a good look at his opponent. They are about the same height and build, but everything about the assassin says that he clearly means business. The rifle he had been aiming to take Bruce's life with lies on the ground discarded, but two handgun holsters and their weapons remain. But guns can be neutralized if Dick gets in close enough, though the cybernetic arm could be a problem. Dick moves in and attacks low, tripping up the Russian's feet. He expects him to go down hard, but it appears his enemy knows a little bit of acrobatics himself and manages to roll away and get back on his feet.
As they exchange blows, Dick taking care to avoid anything the metal arm tries, his mind concentrates solely on the fight, trying to measure and anticipate his opponent's move and counter accordingly. But as one well-placed (or simply lucky) kick sends the assassin to the ground, Dick sees his face suddenly revealed by the lights of taller buildings. It's the eyes that get him, reminding Dick suddenly of a face caked with mud and dirt peering at him from beneath a helmet. He doesn't know why it makes him freeze, but suddenly he's recalling the cold of winter and eyes that glint with a hidden impishness from beneath the protection of pine branches.
The lapse in concentration almost costs Dick, as he comes back to reality and finds himself pinned and staring down the barrel of a gun. He hears the weapon click, and his assailant smiles as he says something in Russian that Dick can't understand. The smile bothers Dick. It doesn't seem right, as if it belongs on a younger, friendlier face. Dick shuts his eyes, so that he won't see his death coming and to block out the smile that bothers him so much. He holds his breath and waits for the tell-tale bang.
Like an explosion, the gun goes off, and Dick's ears are left ringing. But he's still breathing, still alive, and when he dares to open his eyes again, he sees no one is pinning him down anymore, no gun, and no disturbing smirk. Instead, the Russian is sprawled on the ground not too far away, a dark bat-like shadow lurking above him. Bruce and the assassin glare at each other for a moment, before the Russian chooses his move, charging Batman and making his escape across rooftops and into the night.
Dick hopes that Bruce will give chase. But he doesn't, instead coming back to Dick. He doesn't offer his hand or pull the younger man to his feet, only looks at him in silent disapproval. Dick knows an argument is coming - they seem to do a lot of that lately, but for now he doesn't care. For reasons he can't quite explain to himself, he's just glad that Bruce isn't smiling.
The last time they meet Dick is in a cape again. Bruce is gone and Dick finds himself tasked with stepping into his father's very large and heavy boots. But, he reasons with himself, if he hadn't done it, who would? Who could? Still, he doesn't like being Batman very much, nor does he like having the responsibility of cultivating a Robin. Damian is moody, arrogant, and challenging, making Dick wonder if he ever taxed Bruce like Damian taxes him. But at least Damian can be left behind in Gotham, like he is right now with Dick on the road trailing after drug trafficers. Gotham has enough problems with violence, drugs, and crime within the confines of its own city limits; it doesn't need outsiders coming in and pushing their own wares. For this reason, Dick finds himself further east in the heart of New York City.
It's tough to be Batman in New York. There are too many lights and not anywhere near enough shadows to travel in. Anyone will be able to see him coming a mile away, and he's not able to look quite as menacing or terrifying as he hopes. He also knows the criminals in New York are different - they don't fear the dark or the rooftops, most likely because there's never been anything around to make them afraid. Costumed vigilantes run rampant in the city, but they stand out in bright colours like Superman and don't bring with them any sort of terror.
It all makes Dick moody and uncomfortable, and causes his concentration to lapse. He should hear the figure coming up behind him well before he reaches him, but he doesn't, and is only able to hear the whistling of something flying through the air in time to barely dodge aside. There is a thunk as it misses its target, and Dick is able to see it's a round disc decorated in patriotic colours. Dick knows that shield - everyone in America has always known that shield.
“Captain America?”
“Glad I got your attention.”
The man in question steps from his hiding place, scrutinizing Dick. He should recognize Batman, he thinks, after all they have worked together in the past, but then Dick notices the gun strapped to his leg. The Captain never used guns. His voice is different too, not at all like how Dick remembers. And in the light, Dick can see that the costume is all wrong. There's an almost liquid nature to the cowl, and while the wings and the letter and the white star on the chest are all there, the stripes are wrong, and the costume is mostly black.
“I didn't know the old Cap retired,” says Dick. It's both an observation and a challenge.
The new Cap frowns as he picks up the shield, looking troubled for a moment before he replies. “Haven't you read a newspaper lately?”
“I've had my hands full,” Dick confesses. He feels a bit sheepish inspite of himself. Evidently any Captain America will still make him feel like a small boy.
“Well I'm the new guy.” Dick can clearly hear the “You've got a problem with that?” intended in the following silence. “Funny though... I remember you being taller.”
Dick glances at Cap sharply. As far as he knows, Bruce never met with this man, so how would he know? Cap's eyes are studying him carefully, but Dick shrugs it off.
“You said you wanted my attention.” There's something about this Captain America that bothers Dick, and he'd rather get down to the man's business and be on his way.
“It looks like we're tracking the same target,” Cap explains. “Honestly, I haven't been much of a team player in a while but...”
“I work alone,” would be the sort of thing Bruce would say. But Dick isn't Bruce, and he realizes he isn't really interested in being Bruce. He ought to be his own sort of Batman, just like the man next to him is clearly his own sort of Captain America, though Dick can't tell if it's the right sort of Cap yet. But he concedes to his help anyways. Being Batman is still too new to Dick, and it would be a bit of a comfort to know someone out there had his back. Not to mention the sooner he gets back to Gotham, the better.
Slinging his shield onto his back, Cap gives Dick the briefest of smiles but one that causes Dick to pause. Though the posture and voice tell Dick that the man beneath the cowl is rough and not to be messed with, there is still something young and impish in the smile and eyes - something Dick recognizes though he can't quite believe his mind isn't messing around with him. He doesn't know what to say or if it's even possible that this man is who he thinks he is, but as he vaults over the edge of the roof into the alley below, this strange metallic Captain America manages to answer it all in one simple sentence.
“Good to see you're wearing pants this time.”
This art was originally posted at http://melisus.dreamwidth.org/5502.html. You can comment here or head over there and use OpenID.
Fandom: Marvel/DC
Characters: Dick Grayson and Bucky Barnes, with appearances by Bruce Wayne and Steve Rogers
Rating: PG-13 (there's a war; it could scare children)
Length: 3,949 words
Summary: Two boys, two different sets of adventures, and yet so similar in the end.
Notes: The world needs more Barnes and Grayson adventures.
Dick is just a child the first time they meet - they both are, although looking at Bucky Barnes you wouldn't know it. He crouches in a foxhole beneath a makeshift cover of sweet-smelling pine, eyes glinting dangerously beneath his helmet. The only hint of boyhood from the mud-caked boots to the stoney face is a rose flush in his cheeks, and a smile that is impish as can be - when he chooses to show it. As Dick takes in the sight of the boy's blue coat and army gear, he knows the get up is designed to show that he means business. Looking down at his own uniform, Dick begins to wish for the first time that he looked a little more intimidating and less pixie-like. Having something to cover his legs would be nice at the very least. It's beyond cold hiding in the snow.
He has no idea how he ended up where he is. One minute it was Gotham and Hugo Strange, the next he's stumbling through a cold dead forest. Thank goodness for this other kid who seemed to spring out of nowhere and dragged him into the hole they now huddle in. He didn't say much, only that his name was Bucky and Dick had somehow wandered into a warzone.
“Aren't you a bit young to be in a war?” Dick's voice finally breaks the silence between them.
“Not when you've spent your entire life around the army,” replies Bucky. “Besides, Nazis don't care how old you are. They just want you dead.”
Dick still doesn't know how he ended up here, but he's beginning to suspect time travel was involved, and that thought fills him with a cold dread. Mishaps in time and space are a lot of trouble to fix.
“Anyways,” Bucky continues, “what are you doing out here on your own and uh...” He looks Dick over, one eyebrow arching curiously. “Not fond of pants?”
Dick blushes, embarrassed, and draws his knees tighter to his chest. He doesn't get the opportunity to bite back at Bucky's remark though, as the two boys are suddenly interrupted by close rumblings that Dick thinks sound like thunder. Bucky, however, knows better, and sinks down as far into the dirt as he can.
Suddenly, the world around Dick explodes in a din of sound and blinding light. The ground around him shakes, and before he realizes it, he’s thrown himself in the dirt at the bottom of their pit, hands over ears and eyes shut tight. It’s a warzone, he should have realized shells would fall, but things had seemed so quiet.
Dick is afraid. Everything he’s ever experienced in Gotham at the hands of some of the worst villains he’s known does not compare to the forest exploding into splinters around him. He’s going to die huddled in this hole, he’s absolutely sure of it. At any moment a mortar will come crashing through the cover of pine branches and blow him to pieces.
A whimper escapes despite Dick trying to hold it in, coming out a little strangled. But as his mind becomes more and more frantic at his surroundings, Dick becomes aware of a warm hand holding his shoulder gently. With a reassuring squeeze, Dick comes back to the present, chancing a look up at Bucky. The boy is smiling - a look that manages to be both amused and concerned.
“I think of them like fireworks!” he shouts, though Dick can still barely hear. Fireworks from hell, maybe. But before he can say so, one explodes too close and the lights go out in Dick’s world.
There is an unbearable pressure upon him when Dick comes to. He can smell smoke and pine, and tastes dirt. He’s buried under upturned soil and Bucky, and is relieved when the latter shifts and starts to struggle out of the dirt. It means he’s alive. As Bucky gets up, Dick is able to shift the loose dirt aside and raise himself to his knees. They look at each other, both boys now nearly identical, caked entirely in black dirt. The forest around them is now mostly silent again, the rumbling of shells now only a sound of distant thunder.
“That was a close one. They’ve moved on to a different part of the forest now.” Bucky’s face is grim, his brow furrowed. Under all that dirt it makes him seem so much older, and for a moment Dick forgets that they're both only boys.
“Is that where the rest of your outfit is?” asks Dick. Even though the shells sound far away, he still finds himself shivering. It isn't far enough. “You ended up separated?”
A blush creeps into Bucky's cheeks and he sinks back down towards the bottom of the hole. He's silent for a moment, staring moodily at his boots. “This doesn't happen. Ever.” There's frustration in his voice. Dick thinks he's struck a nerve. “I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am.” He looks up and glares at Dick. “And at least I've got pants on instead of looking like some sort of pixie.”
“My outfit suits my line of work just fine,” Dick counters. It isn't a very good comeback, and he's not so sure he likes Bucky all that much at the moment, but the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight - especially in a place like this. If he really has ended up in World War Two, he's extremely lucky to be sharing a foxhole with one of the good guys. He could have just as easily walked into the other side, and Dick doesn't want to think about what might have happened then. What he does want is to go home, eat something hot, and for the world to be right and normal again. So he backs down from the fight Bucky seems to be trying to instigate. At this point he doesn't really care if the boy thinks he's a wimp or that he hasn't got any pants or even tights to go with his scaly green bottoms.
“Well I'm lost. I don't know where I am...”
It takes a moment, but Dick's words seem to take all the fire out of Bucky. He pauses, appears to consider something, and then his expression softens. When he speaks, his tone becomes gentle, sympathetic. “Look, you stick with me and we'll figure it out.” The impish smile is back. “I have friends who can help. If anyone will know what to do, they will.”
It isn't much, but it is some hope, even if Dick isn't too keen on the idea of leaving the safety of the foxhole. They won't though, at least not immediately. Bucky says it isn't safe with night approaching. There's too many trees and too many places for unfriendly eyes to be hiding. Dick shivers at the thought of armed soldiers lurking about. He's seen a lot of things that would give any child nightmares - he still has some of his own sometimes, but while Dick's world is full of killer clowns and violent madmen, there's something about a large army of trained and organized killers that manages to unsettle him.
It isn't long before the cold begins to gnaw away at him either. He tries rubbing his arms and legs, but it just won't work and soon he's lost feeling in his toes. Bucky watches him for a while, and Dick realizes that maybe pants wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. The pine cover above grants them some insulation, but it isn't a lot and certainly not enough.
“Wait here,” Bucky says suddenly, and before Dick can ask him what he's doing or where he's going, the boy is gone. Dick sits very quietly, hoping his teeth aren't chattering too loudly. He can hear Bucky's footsteps fading away and for the moment he's alone, Dick has to work very hard to keep himself calm. But then Bucky's back, dropping back down into the dirt and offering Dick an overcoat that smells off and is spattered with stains he's better off not thinking about. “Just... try not to think about the cold, okay?”
Dick does try, wrapping the oversized coat around him and concentrating on things like tropical beaches, roaring fires, and hot soup. It helps to pass the time as Bucky doesn't make a whole lot of conversation, but Dick finds they're both too busy listening to the sounds around them to say much to each other. A few times there are voices, foreign and unfriendly, causing Bucky to hold his breath and clutch his weapon tightly. But they pass by, and though the darkness above continues to light up with the flashing of shells, they remain distant and don't disturb them.
Dick eventually falls asleep though he isn't aware of when it finally takes him. But eventually it's morning, and Dick can hear the crunching of snow beneath someone's feet. The footsteps are approaching, and at first Dick doesn't think much about them. But then his senses come back to him and he realizes where he is and what that sound could mean. He shakes the sleeping boy next to him, startling Bucky awake. He doesn't say a word; he doesn't have to, as Bucky instinctively listens and nods. Weapon at the ready, Bucky creeps forward to peer out of the hole though he's still frantically trying to scrub the sleep from his eyes. Dick isn't sure how good one kid with a gun is going to be against an army of trained Germans, but there isn't much else either of them can do. But Dick can see Bucky suddenly grin, and it isn't cheeky, or coy, or grim in any way. It is unabashed happiness, and he lets out a long and loud whistle.
The next thing Dick knows is that he's being helped out of the foxhole by a group of American soldiers being led by someone who Bucky claims is his partner: Captain America. Dick isn't too sure what to say to the man. He's a legendary war hero (though that might not be true just yet), and Dick is certain Bruce will never believe the man exists if Dick ever gets back home to tell him about it.
Dick does eventually get back home, and though Bruce listens patiently to Dick's story about the kid in the foxhole and the legendary hero, the smile on his face tells Dick that - sure enough - he doesn't believe a word of it.
Dick is a little older the second time he meets Captain America and Bucky, and it's in his own timeline. As Robin, Dick is used to Gotham's eccentric villains, but one day a man wearing a hideous red skull mask appears. Unlike the villains Dick's used to, this masked man isn't interested in contorting Joker gas, or grand theatrics with him and Batman. He works with guns only, and as Dick watches his mentor work on tracking the criminal down and unravelling a motive for his crimes, he discovers they're all ethnically charged.
One night as he and Bruce are meeting with Gordon, the commissioner introduces them to a man newly arrived from New York. He knows their target well and has come to lend a hand. Dick can hear Bruce make a displeased noise in the back of his throat as two figures step into the open, and Dick is startled to discover that he's once again meeting with Captain America and his sidekick, Bucky.
Dick can't help but notice that there's something not quite right about the pair. The Captain looks just as he remembers, though Dick is left wondering how a man from World War Two hasn't aged a day. But it's Bucky that really grabs his attention and how different he looks. He's slimmer than he was when Dick met him in the foxhole, and his hair isn't as brown as it should be. It's a tad lighter which most people wouldn't notice, but you don't grow up with Gotham's greatest detective and not learn the value of details and acute observation. This Bucky is also too cheerful. As Bruce begrudgingly accepts the star-spangled Avenger's help, Dick ends up spending a lot of time with this Bucky. He's cheeky and impish, but that's all there is to him. He's too much like a child, and there's none of that grimness lurking underneath that Dick saw when they first met. He's too much like him, Dick realizes, cheerful and upbeat like he hasn't actually been through a war.
And then it hits him. This is the same Captain America, but a different Bucky. At first he can't figure out why, but then it dawns on him. The original Bucky must have grown up. “Bucky” isn't a name, so much as it's a title or a code name just like “Robin.” Does it mean they're replaceable? Does it mean he's replaceable? At first Dick is frightened by the idea that Bruce could simply replace him with some other kid. But when he thinks about it a little more, he realizes that he's not going to want to be the Boy Wonder for his entire life. Buckys grow up... and maybe Robins will too.
Robin does grow up, and Dick spends his adult years under a new identity in a new city. He becomes Officer Grayson by day and Nightwing by night, and is all too glad to be rid of the pixie boots and cape. Capes were never very practical for an acrobat, and Dick finds that without it he's a lot more graceful and certainly freer.
He finds himself still returning to Gotham every once in a while, usually to help out Bruce when things get a little too hairy. This is one of those instances, though it isn't exactly Batman that needs help this time. It was Barbara who gave him the information, explaining that a Russian operative was supposedly on his way to Gotham and had Bruce Wayne and his captialist empire set in his crosshairs. He and Bruce argue about the danger. Bruce doesn’t need Dick's protection, and the younger man knows full well that he's quite capable of handling himself in almost any situation. But the persona of Bruce Wayne is of a carefree haphazard playboy, and playing that role does put Bruce at some risk. Dick says he concedes, but he'll be damned if he's going to sit by and do nothing.
As Dick sits on a rooftop, overseeing one of the Wayne Foundation’s many benefits (and the lavish parties that always follow), he's certain his mentor suspects he hasn't left Gotham. But if something were to happen, Dick wouldn't be able to forgive himself. And sure enough, the assassin makes his appearance as little more than a swift shadow moving through the darkness across from Dick. Even though his eyes are sharp, he probably would not have seen a thing but for a brief glint of metal as something catches moonlight.
Dick is on his feet in an instant, moving silently in on his target. The figure doesn't appear to have seen or heard a thing, as it crouches down and takes aim. Simple amateurs, Dick comments in his mind, and makes to pounce. But as he does, the assassin turns at the last second and Dick is stunned to find himself slammed into the ground by something hard. It appears the assailant wasn't so oblivious after all. Dick struggles to catch his breath and scramble back as a gun fires. He manages to get himself back on his feet, dodging the bullet just in time.
As he rights himself, he's able to get a good look at his opponent. They are about the same height and build, but everything about the assassin says that he clearly means business. The rifle he had been aiming to take Bruce's life with lies on the ground discarded, but two handgun holsters and their weapons remain. But guns can be neutralized if Dick gets in close enough, though the cybernetic arm could be a problem. Dick moves in and attacks low, tripping up the Russian's feet. He expects him to go down hard, but it appears his enemy knows a little bit of acrobatics himself and manages to roll away and get back on his feet.
As they exchange blows, Dick taking care to avoid anything the metal arm tries, his mind concentrates solely on the fight, trying to measure and anticipate his opponent's move and counter accordingly. But as one well-placed (or simply lucky) kick sends the assassin to the ground, Dick sees his face suddenly revealed by the lights of taller buildings. It's the eyes that get him, reminding Dick suddenly of a face caked with mud and dirt peering at him from beneath a helmet. He doesn't know why it makes him freeze, but suddenly he's recalling the cold of winter and eyes that glint with a hidden impishness from beneath the protection of pine branches.
The lapse in concentration almost costs Dick, as he comes back to reality and finds himself pinned and staring down the barrel of a gun. He hears the weapon click, and his assailant smiles as he says something in Russian that Dick can't understand. The smile bothers Dick. It doesn't seem right, as if it belongs on a younger, friendlier face. Dick shuts his eyes, so that he won't see his death coming and to block out the smile that bothers him so much. He holds his breath and waits for the tell-tale bang.
Like an explosion, the gun goes off, and Dick's ears are left ringing. But he's still breathing, still alive, and when he dares to open his eyes again, he sees no one is pinning him down anymore, no gun, and no disturbing smirk. Instead, the Russian is sprawled on the ground not too far away, a dark bat-like shadow lurking above him. Bruce and the assassin glare at each other for a moment, before the Russian chooses his move, charging Batman and making his escape across rooftops and into the night.
Dick hopes that Bruce will give chase. But he doesn't, instead coming back to Dick. He doesn't offer his hand or pull the younger man to his feet, only looks at him in silent disapproval. Dick knows an argument is coming - they seem to do a lot of that lately, but for now he doesn't care. For reasons he can't quite explain to himself, he's just glad that Bruce isn't smiling.
The last time they meet Dick is in a cape again. Bruce is gone and Dick finds himself tasked with stepping into his father's very large and heavy boots. But, he reasons with himself, if he hadn't done it, who would? Who could? Still, he doesn't like being Batman very much, nor does he like having the responsibility of cultivating a Robin. Damian is moody, arrogant, and challenging, making Dick wonder if he ever taxed Bruce like Damian taxes him. But at least Damian can be left behind in Gotham, like he is right now with Dick on the road trailing after drug trafficers. Gotham has enough problems with violence, drugs, and crime within the confines of its own city limits; it doesn't need outsiders coming in and pushing their own wares. For this reason, Dick finds himself further east in the heart of New York City.
It's tough to be Batman in New York. There are too many lights and not anywhere near enough shadows to travel in. Anyone will be able to see him coming a mile away, and he's not able to look quite as menacing or terrifying as he hopes. He also knows the criminals in New York are different - they don't fear the dark or the rooftops, most likely because there's never been anything around to make them afraid. Costumed vigilantes run rampant in the city, but they stand out in bright colours like Superman and don't bring with them any sort of terror.
It all makes Dick moody and uncomfortable, and causes his concentration to lapse. He should hear the figure coming up behind him well before he reaches him, but he doesn't, and is only able to hear the whistling of something flying through the air in time to barely dodge aside. There is a thunk as it misses its target, and Dick is able to see it's a round disc decorated in patriotic colours. Dick knows that shield - everyone in America has always known that shield.
“Captain America?”
“Glad I got your attention.”
The man in question steps from his hiding place, scrutinizing Dick. He should recognize Batman, he thinks, after all they have worked together in the past, but then Dick notices the gun strapped to his leg. The Captain never used guns. His voice is different too, not at all like how Dick remembers. And in the light, Dick can see that the costume is all wrong. There's an almost liquid nature to the cowl, and while the wings and the letter and the white star on the chest are all there, the stripes are wrong, and the costume is mostly black.
“I didn't know the old Cap retired,” says Dick. It's both an observation and a challenge.
The new Cap frowns as he picks up the shield, looking troubled for a moment before he replies. “Haven't you read a newspaper lately?”
“I've had my hands full,” Dick confesses. He feels a bit sheepish inspite of himself. Evidently any Captain America will still make him feel like a small boy.
“Well I'm the new guy.” Dick can clearly hear the “You've got a problem with that?” intended in the following silence. “Funny though... I remember you being taller.”
Dick glances at Cap sharply. As far as he knows, Bruce never met with this man, so how would he know? Cap's eyes are studying him carefully, but Dick shrugs it off.
“You said you wanted my attention.” There's something about this Captain America that bothers Dick, and he'd rather get down to the man's business and be on his way.
“It looks like we're tracking the same target,” Cap explains. “Honestly, I haven't been much of a team player in a while but...”
“I work alone,” would be the sort of thing Bruce would say. But Dick isn't Bruce, and he realizes he isn't really interested in being Bruce. He ought to be his own sort of Batman, just like the man next to him is clearly his own sort of Captain America, though Dick can't tell if it's the right sort of Cap yet. But he concedes to his help anyways. Being Batman is still too new to Dick, and it would be a bit of a comfort to know someone out there had his back. Not to mention the sooner he gets back to Gotham, the better.
Slinging his shield onto his back, Cap gives Dick the briefest of smiles but one that causes Dick to pause. Though the posture and voice tell Dick that the man beneath the cowl is rough and not to be messed with, there is still something young and impish in the smile and eyes - something Dick recognizes though he can't quite believe his mind isn't messing around with him. He doesn't know what to say or if it's even possible that this man is who he thinks he is, but as he vaults over the edge of the roof into the alley below, this strange metallic Captain America manages to answer it all in one simple sentence.
“Good to see you're wearing pants this time.”
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