WHO: Dick Grayson and Tim Drake. WHERE: Entrance and out. WHEN: The day after that log, at noon. WHAT: Dick and Tim are going out to eat. FORMAT: Paragraph. WARNINGS: None.
Dick is early a few minutes himself but this is probably because he might have been driving a little too fast. Not terribly, but it's been a while since he's taken his motorcycle out for a spin just because and he couldn't resist the rush. When he takes the kids out for lunch or whatever trip has been planned that week, it's always by car. So this makes for a nice change of pace.
He pulls up in front of the gate and takes his helmet off, leaving it on his bike before greeting Tim, somehow not surprised to find the boy there early. It just fits with the kind of person Tim seems to be. "Hey there," he says cheerily as he gets off, taking the old leather jacket he managed to find and tossing it over to Tim.
Tim will receive neither pity or annoyance from Dick, just complete total understanding and sympathy. He had gone through all of this once upon a time himself after all. Sometimes he still goes through it - nightmares of kneeling in a pool of blood and limbs twisted in ways limbs should never be twisted - but he's learned to live with it. To find a balance that makes it a little easier. Time helped a lot too.
"Don't feel guilty about being happy. It's not what your parents would have wanted. There's no set time you have to keep on mourning, some people take longer to move on and some can move on faster and there's nothing wrong with either of that."
At this point Dick, being the physical person he is, has to reach out and take Tim's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze while he gives the boy a small considerate smile to show he understands. Really understands and that he's not alone.
"Your parents would want you to be happy, now you only need to let yourself be happy."
Tim hasn't in any way moved on. In all honesty, he can't figure himself ever moving on. These were his parents, he's never going to forget, never going to stop thinking about them in the back of his mind. The nightmares will stop and it won't be constant but --
That's what bothers him. It's not constant anymore, he thinks about family without thinking about them when it's about Bruce and Dick and even if Dick is right and that his parents would be happy he's found somewhere to fit in so fast, Tim feels he's betraying them, somehow. Because they can't be replaced.
He smiles sadly, "I'm sure I will stop feeling guilty for being happy, soon."
It's not something he can decide, at least not in his opinion. He knows both Dick and Bruce went through the same thing and they know how to help, his tragedy isn't any worse than theirs just because it's more recent. He shouldn't be so egoistical.
"How long did it take you to let yourself be happy?" His eyes widen just barely and he adds quickly, "If I'm not intruding."
"I know parents can never be replaced but just know that Bruce and I are here for you," Dick replies with a more open smile. He may not have been on great terms with Bruce but he knows Bruce well enough to make such a promise. Seeing his own pain reflected in Dick was the reason he'd taken him in, it was probably the same for Tim.
The question makes him pause and consider though not before he gives Tim a quick, "Oh no, it's fine. You can ask me anything you want." It's only fair to play open book as well and Dick doesn't have a problem with talking to people. Not most of the time anyway.
He's not quite sure how long it took to let himself be happy, a lot of the memories of the first few weeks with Bruce were rather hazy. He can remember that for a while he had pretended to be happy because once he saw through his own grief he had noticed Bruce's and helping Bruce had distracted him from his own loss.
"I'm not sure," he admits honestly. "I think it was up until my first Christmas with Bruce." Which some might consider weird because
( ... )
So it took nine months for Dick. It still seems a bit short, and extremely long at the same time. Even if it makes him feel bad afterward, it still helps to feel glad to be here with Dick. They're complicated feeling and Tim has a hard time categorizing them and understanding them.
(He'll understand later that he doesn't have to, that he can just feel a lot of things at the same time and that it's perfectly fine. He's not there, yet.)
"I know you're there." He could say more, but he doesn't. It's enough, everything else would be hard for him and wouldn't lead anywhere.
"I -- effectively darkened the mood. A lot." And he doesn't have the ability to tell a joke or a story and make everything better. He tried to learn it for a long time, but it never worked.
"It may have been much sooner than that but that's just when I actually realized it." He adds by a way of explaining, he honestly doesn't remember clearly. It's not a period he's spent much time looking back on or really wanted to look back on. It's nicer to remember the happy times with Bruce and Alfred that came after that particular depressive period.
He gives Tim's hand a final squeeze in affirmation before drawing his hand back and making room on the table for the approaching waiter to put their orders down.
"It's okay," he assures Tim sincerely. "I'm just glad you're willing to talk to me." And he really is.
Talking about this will never be easy, especially not when it's still so fresh so Dick appreciates it.
Tim looks at his hand, moving his fingers a little, curling it into a fist and opening it again. He's not used to the contact: his parents were never affectionate, and not looking for it himself, Tim doesn't get touched, or hugged. Holding his hand in reassurance or only bumping his knee like Dick did earlier are both out of Tim's usual physical contact range.
"When I was younger, I would have conversations with you in my mind." Before Dick left the Wayne manor and completely stopped going to functions. Tim's scenarios would always start at a function -- he would say something clever, Dick would talk to him and somehow it would go so incredibly well that by the end of the night, Dick had told him his secrets without Tim ever bringing it up.
Now that he thinks about it, Tim knows it was ridiculous. But he was young, he can forgive himself.
"To be honest, I'm really glad you're willing to listen
( ... )
Tim had better get used to the physical contact fast if he wants to spend time with Dick because Dick is a complete contact junkie. Of course, he knows not to do it when it makes someone uncomfortable but sometimes he can't help himself. Touch is important to him.
Perhaps that confession should make him feel awkward but Dick can remember a time when he would talk to whatever he could talk to. Mostly that would be the lost bats that had gotten into the mansion somehow or the armour in the hall he had named after a dear clown friend. At least Tim had been speaking to a real someone in his mind, Dick can still remember the raised eyebrows Alfred gave him whenever he was caught lamenting to something that couldn't even speak back. So he nods in understanding
( ... )
Tim eyes the pancakes and he did catch that Dick had asked for his usual, so this leads to him raising an eyebrow slowly, looking at Dick curiously.
"Your usual on lunch time are pancakes?"
He has nothing against pancakes himself, although he doesn't like them if they have too much sugar in them, but it doesn't seem like a balanced middle-of-the-day meal.
"Do you also take some coffee when you wake up in the morning? Because most adults shouldn't ingest more than 300 milligrams of caffeine a day. Anything over that may cause longterm physical problems..."
Tim realises after he's done talking that Dick probably knows that already. Still -- it can't be bad to point it out. Maybe a little creepy but Dick seems to be immune to creepiness, which is probably why he doesn't mind spending time with Tim, really.
Which isn't as much as he would like, most of these days he settles for healthier cafeteria food, but back when he was a cop and lived in the city? He's sure Alfred would be very unhappy should the butler ever find out. There had also been quite some stereotypical donuts that he hopes to keep a secret.
Tim's bemusement and that random spurting out of a coffee fact make Dick laugh. He does know what he's been doing hasn't been healthy but it's also unhealthy to go out at night to beat up criminals.
"In my line of work, coffee is a required necessity I'm afraid."
Tim understands and nods, and doesn't argue that he could find better ways to keep himself awake and that drinking coffee in the middle of the day is probably not conducive to anything.
He doesn't have anything to add, or ask, but he does have food to eat. He's discovered, with time, that food was one of the best excuse to top talking, because everyone agrees that you can't talk with your mouth full and no one will ever tell you 'chew and swallow faster, I want you to keep talking'.
Some people probably would, actually, but Tim has never met them.
Either way, it means it's time to concentrate on his food and wait for Dick to control the conversation.
The drinking coffee in the middle of the day might have more to do with the addictive qualities of caffeine than his night job but that's not something Dick is going to mention or acknowledge. Instead, he happily lets the subject slide.
He eats his pancakes in a companionable silence that lasts for about...oh, a minute. He's never been good at keeping his mouth shut regardless of who he is around. He's naturally chatty like that.
That's not about to change.
"So, how are you liking the Institute so far?" It's an easy subject, one that Dick can smoothly present.
Tim uses the time to finish and swallow his bite to run the last few days in his mind. He can't really start off with 'it's not particularly interesting' even if he feels that way so far. He knows he just has to get settled and that his classes barely even started yet.
"It's -- fine. Everyone I talked to so far has been nice or helpful, at least, and I didn't have too much of a hard time choosing classes? I was expecting a lot and nothing's much is happening but that has its good sides."
He sips on his Zesti and smiles a little. "I met a few X-Men -- former X-Men. But not Professor Xavier or any of the most famous ones other than Emma Frost. I keep thinking bumping into Cyclops or Wolverine would be..." he trails off. "Hopefully I wouldn't look too much like an idiot, at least."
If he managed with Dick, he should manage with any X-Men, really.
"It's not always this calm and it's doubtful it will stay that way." Dick's not sure if that's reassurance though considering everything that's gone down in the past...yeah, no. Not exactly reassurance but there had been incidents that weren't so bad and still make him laugh when he thinks of them.
Still, peaceful like it is at the Institute right now is for the best. "That's good," he says to the classes bit and just nods at Tim's expectations. He'd like to keep things 'not much happening' instead of explosions and...bears on the lawn. The mention of his team distracts him from that train of thought soon enough though and he perks up.
"Logan's a bit gruff but don't let the attitude fool you, he's a good guy and Scott," he pauses with a fond smile. "Is a really good friend. I'm sure you'd like him. I'll have to introduce you."
The others would probably want to know about his addition to the family.
Nightwing had been a member of the X-Men, too, so of course he would know them all. Tim still hadn't thought of the possible repercussions of that simple fact.
"You don't have to introduce me to anyone." He doesn't want to stick out or be treated like he's special because he doesn't feel he is. Being able to ride Dick's bike was the peak of 'special' he ever thought would happen to him.
"I wouldn't know what to do. I'm okay about waiting to cross their paths by accident. I'm not usually as -- forward as I was with you."
He doesn't want to disappoint, either. It's clear from Dick's expression that he really likes Cyclops and that they're close. It would be insanely awkward for all of them if something went wrong between Tim and him.
"I should at least introduce you to Scott." Dick got to hang out with Alex, it would only be fair he introduce his own little brother as well. Although explaining was likely going to be awkward, that wasn't going to stop him. He wasn't going to hide family.
"Don't worry, I don't think there's anyone that's easier to get along with than him."
He'll let Tim stumble across the others himself, since he seems to be more comfortable that way. He's not going to force anything but to some extent, he considers the team to be something like family too. Despite the disbanding.
He pulls up in front of the gate and takes his helmet off, leaving it on his bike before greeting Tim, somehow not surprised to find the boy there early. It just fits with the kind of person Tim seems to be. "Hey there," he says cheerily as he gets off, taking the old leather jacket he managed to find and tossing it over to Tim.
"Ready for your first ride?"
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"Don't feel guilty about being happy. It's not what your parents would have wanted. There's no set time you have to keep on mourning, some people take longer to move on and some can move on faster and there's nothing wrong with either of that."
At this point Dick, being the physical person he is, has to reach out and take Tim's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze while he gives the boy a small considerate smile to show he understands. Really understands and that he's not alone.
"Your parents would want you to be happy, now you only need to let yourself be happy."
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That's what bothers him. It's not constant anymore, he thinks about family without thinking about them when it's about Bruce and Dick and even if Dick is right and that his parents would be happy he's found somewhere to fit in so fast, Tim feels he's betraying them, somehow. Because they can't be replaced.
He smiles sadly, "I'm sure I will stop feeling guilty for being happy, soon."
It's not something he can decide, at least not in his opinion. He knows both Dick and Bruce went through the same thing and they know how to help, his tragedy isn't any worse than theirs just because it's more recent. He shouldn't be so egoistical.
"How long did it take you to let yourself be happy?" His eyes widen just barely and he adds quickly, "If I'm not intruding."
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The question makes him pause and consider though not before he gives Tim a quick, "Oh no, it's fine. You can ask me anything you want." It's only fair to play open book as well and Dick doesn't have a problem with talking to people. Not most of the time anyway.
He's not quite sure how long it took to let himself be happy, a lot of the memories of the first few weeks with Bruce were rather hazy. He can remember that for a while he had pretended to be happy because once he saw through his own grief he had noticed Bruce's and helping Bruce had distracted him from his own loss.
"I'm not sure," he admits honestly. "I think it was up until my first Christmas with Bruce." Which some might consider weird because ( ... )
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(He'll understand later that he doesn't have to, that he can just feel a lot of things at the same time and that it's perfectly fine. He's not there, yet.)
"I know you're there." He could say more, but he doesn't. It's enough, everything else would be hard for him and wouldn't lead anywhere.
"I -- effectively darkened the mood. A lot." And he doesn't have the ability to tell a joke or a story and make everything better. He tried to learn it for a long time, but it never worked.
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He gives Tim's hand a final squeeze in affirmation before drawing his hand back and making room on the table for the approaching waiter to put their orders down.
"It's okay," he assures Tim sincerely. "I'm just glad you're willing to talk to me." And he really is.
Talking about this will never be easy, especially not when it's still so fresh so Dick appreciates it.
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"When I was younger, I would have conversations with you in my mind." Before Dick left the Wayne manor and completely stopped going to functions. Tim's scenarios would always start at a function -- he would say something clever, Dick would talk to him and somehow it would go so incredibly well that by the end of the night, Dick had told him his secrets without Tim ever bringing it up.
Now that he thinks about it, Tim knows it was ridiculous. But he was young, he can forgive himself.
"To be honest, I'm really glad you're willing to listen ( ... )
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Perhaps that confession should make him feel awkward but Dick can remember a time when he would talk to whatever he could talk to. Mostly that would be the lost bats that had gotten into the mansion somehow or the armour in the hall he had named after a dear clown friend. At least Tim had been speaking to a real someone in his mind, Dick can still remember the raised eyebrows Alfred gave him whenever he was caught lamenting to something that couldn't even speak back. So he nods in understanding ( ... )
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"Your usual on lunch time are pancakes?"
He has nothing against pancakes himself, although he doesn't like them if they have too much sugar in them, but it doesn't seem like a balanced middle-of-the-day meal.
"Do you also take some coffee when you wake up in the morning? Because most adults shouldn't ingest more than 300 milligrams of caffeine a day. Anything over that may cause longterm physical problems..."
Tim realises after he's done talking that Dick probably knows that already. Still -- it can't be bad to point it out. Maybe a little creepy but Dick seems to be immune to creepiness, which is probably why he doesn't mind spending time with Tim, really.
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Which isn't as much as he would like, most of these days he settles for healthier cafeteria food, but back when he was a cop and lived in the city? He's sure Alfred would be very unhappy should the butler ever find out. There had also been quite some stereotypical donuts that he hopes to keep a secret.
Tim's bemusement and that random spurting out of a coffee fact make Dick laugh. He does know what he's been doing hasn't been healthy but it's also unhealthy to go out at night to beat up criminals.
"In my line of work, coffee is a required necessity I'm afraid."
And he's sure Tim knows what he means by that.
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He doesn't have anything to add, or ask, but he does have food to eat. He's discovered, with time, that food was one of the best excuse to top talking, because everyone agrees that you can't talk with your mouth full and no one will ever tell you 'chew and swallow faster, I want you to keep talking'.
Some people probably would, actually, but Tim has never met them.
Either way, it means it's time to concentrate on his food and wait for Dick to control the conversation.
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He eats his pancakes in a companionable silence that lasts for about...oh, a minute. He's never been good at keeping his mouth shut regardless of who he is around. He's naturally chatty like that.
That's not about to change.
"So, how are you liking the Institute so far?" It's an easy subject, one that Dick can smoothly present.
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"It's -- fine. Everyone I talked to so far has been nice or helpful, at least, and I didn't have too much of a hard time choosing classes? I was expecting a lot and nothing's much is happening but that has its good sides."
He sips on his Zesti and smiles a little. "I met a few X-Men -- former X-Men. But not Professor Xavier or any of the most famous ones other than Emma Frost. I keep thinking bumping into Cyclops or Wolverine would be..." he trails off. "Hopefully I wouldn't look too much like an idiot, at least."
If he managed with Dick, he should manage with any X-Men, really.
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Still, peaceful like it is at the Institute right now is for the best. "That's good," he says to the classes bit and just nods at Tim's expectations. He'd like to keep things 'not much happening' instead of explosions and...bears on the lawn. The mention of his team distracts him from that train of thought soon enough though and he perks up.
"Logan's a bit gruff but don't let the attitude fool you, he's a good guy and Scott," he pauses with a fond smile. "Is a really good friend. I'm sure you'd like him. I'll have to introduce you."
The others would probably want to know about his addition to the family.
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"You don't have to introduce me to anyone." He doesn't want to stick out or be treated like he's special because he doesn't feel he is. Being able to ride Dick's bike was the peak of 'special' he ever thought would happen to him.
"I wouldn't know what to do. I'm okay about waiting to cross their paths by accident. I'm not usually as -- forward as I was with you."
He doesn't want to disappoint, either. It's clear from Dick's expression that he really likes Cyclops and that they're close. It would be insanely awkward for all of them if something went wrong between Tim and him.
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"Don't worry, I don't think there's anyone that's easier to get along with than him."
He'll let Tim stumble across the others himself, since he seems to be more comfortable that way. He's not going to force anything but to some extent, he considers the team to be something like family too. Despite the disbanding.
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