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Bruce lowered his cowl as he looked over at the screen of the Batcomputer. Just the passing thought of the name made Bruce think of the little boy that had given it its name. Though, Dick had never really been all that little in nearly every way besides his stature.
Dick had been cautious when Bruce had first taken him in, but never reserved and always thoroughly opinionated. As soon as Bruce had laid his eyes on Dick he knew the kid would be something special. However, it wasn’t until he saw Dick clad in the Robin suit with that shine in his eyes that he put together what that something was.
Bruce was a deeply logical man, but he was also surrounded by magic and concepts that truly could not be explained by science. Instead of denying those truths, he left that part of the world for others that were more in-tune with it. That being said, he wasn’t a blind man either. He could see how nearly every hero he met felt like they were destined to become one. No one, however, seemed as destined to wear a mask than Dick.
Batman had been forged out of fear and a need for control. Gotham needed that fear, but it also needed the hope that Robin graced her skies with. There were a few heroes that were pillars of hope and Nightwing burned the brightest.
Dick was the best of them. He always had been.
Bruce looked over the latest news story covering The Batman. Batman had needed to become less of a myth and more of a person when he had, eventually, ingrained himself in the hero community like Dick pushed him to. Dick, however, had gone from Robin - a name known across the world - to Nightwing; a name that could be lost in the history books. A part of him seethed at the idea of Dick being left out of retellings of heroes past, but another part of him was unbelievably proud that Dick was able to do what he never could.
Nightwing was not a name a civilian would know, but it was one that meant more than its weight in gold to the heroes surrounding him.
Bruce let out a small smile and closed the tab containing the article. Heroes and villains alike, they would never let Dick’s memory disappear. Not when Dick had carved the pedestals they stood on.
Superman was considered the top hero by the general public and even in the hero world Superman was listened to above almost anyone else. Almost anyone else. In truth, even Superman had his favorite hero. A hero that he looked up to and saw as the best. And that hero was Nightwing.
Clark had known Dick since he was just a little Robin. Even at such a young age, Dick had intrinsically known the importance of hope. The importance of giving people something to believe in. Clark had a lot of respect and love for Bruce, but if he was asked who was truly the pinnacle of being human, Dick’s name would tumble out of his mouth without a second thought.
It was more than Dick’s fighting capabilities or his sharp mind. Being human was more than the peaks of the body or mind. Dick was also endlessly kind and had a mastery of his emotions and how to draw out the emotions of others. Dick knew how to make you feel hopeful, angry, happy, fearful, anything he wanted, really.
Dick’s ability to wrap people, other heroes, around his finger was unrivaled.
Clark was very confident in his ability to rally heroes around him, to unite them for a cause, but it was beyond second nature for Dick. He talked, they listened.
Every day that passed, every crisis that Dick took charge in, he showed off exactly why he was named Nightwing. Only Dick could be so perfectly human to live up to a myth. Clark knew he had been right in telling the legend to Dick.
Who else would understand what it really meant?
Clark didn’t have to worry about the future when Dick was around. He knew there was so much pressure on the man’s shoulders, knew there were so many expectations, but Clark also knew that Dick would live up to every single one. It was just in his nature to rise to the challenge of being the best.
There would always need to be heroes like Superman. The heroes that gave all civilians someone to believe in. The heroes that could be posted on billboards and published in papers.
And on the other hand, there would always need to be someone like Nightwing. A hero that could pull all the rest together with a simple tug of their hand.
Jon was Superman. On top of that, he was the son of the original Superman. The man of steel himself. Clark Kent. That being said…
Jon wanted to be like Nightwing. He wanted to be like Nightwing so bad. Of course he looked up to his father, hell he looked up to Conner too, but they weren’t Dick. No one was. No one could be. Jon could try his best to fill the boots of his father, but he pitied the person that would inevitably try to fill Dick’s shoes once he eventually passed.
Honestly, Jon couldn’t imagine the hero world without Nightwing, but Dick was only mortal. No matter how many heroes constantly got in the way of Dick dying, which boy did they, he would grow old and have to stop at some point. It would take the hero world years to recover from that, Jon was sure.
Growing up, Jon heard many stories about Nightwing. First the myth, of a god cast out of his family that became the hero of Krypton, then the stories of the man to embody that myth on Earth. His dad hadn’t described Dick like he was a person, really. Sure, he said Dick was just a man, but in the same breath he would talk about how Nightwing flew. How the air seemed to part way just for him.
He had needed to see Dick in person to really understand what his dad was getting at.
Apart from being sculpted by the sky itself, Dick was the person Jon could really talk to. Dick was the person that juggled to calm him down when he was 9 and scared. Dick was the person to lend an ear whenever Jon felt legacy weigh too heavily on his back. Dick was the person that helped ease the guilt that slowly but surely built in Jon’s gut until he felt sick.
His family would listen too, but Dick felt easier to talk to. Jon knew it was because of his practiced way with words, always knowing the right thing to say, but it didn’t take away from their talks at all to know that. Really, it just made Nightwing even cooler. The control Dick had over his words was both impressive and something Jon would never be able to achieve. He wore his heart on his sleeve too much for it.
Though… He could ask Dick for some tips on how to control his emotions a bit more. And maybe also practice how to control that fluttering in his chest that happened when he talked to pretty people.
Mhm. That was a good plan.
Hal had many opinions on the heroes around him. Barry and Ollie were his best friends. Ollie was similar to Hal while Barry was almost his polar opposite in many ways. Ollie was who Hal could call to have some fun, Barry was the person to go to if something was wrong.
Clark was maybe a bit too idealistic, but without him they would all be lost. Diana was scary, but damn did she get the job done whenever she was set to a task. Bruce had a major stick up his ass, but Hal would be an idiot if he said the man didn’t keep the League together with his plans.
He could go on and on, really.
Dick was a weird case, though. Hal didn’t exactly lose sleep thinking about it, but it did hit him whenever he interacted with the other. How exactly was Hal supposed to describe Dick? Batman but better? Superman but for heroes? A generally cool guy that had all of them wrapped around his finger?
Hal saw a lot of himself in Dick too, really. Not in the same way as Ollie, not at all, but it was definitely there. Dick knew how to break the ice, knew when to use humor even better than Hal did, and at his core: Dick was an adrenaline junkie like Hal was.
Jumping off of buildings with nothing else but a grappling hook in hand? Yeah, that wasn’t the work of a sane man.
Sure, Batman jumped off buildings too, (not that Bats was sane,) but he used his grappling hook as a tool. Nothing more, nothing less. Dick used his more like an art form, as stupid as that sounded. It looked like dancing, though. At least, to Hal it did.
Hal knew the sky, he knew the stars, and he knew when he saw someone that knew them too. It was a shame Dick didn't have an easy way to access the stars. Hal had a feeling he would get just as lost in them as Hal did.
Well, that was a way to put Dick. A man that would really fit being a Green Lantern. Hal had never seen the kid scared. Not as Robin, not as Nightwing. Though, that wasn’t a perfect description either. Dick would be a great Green Lantern, but that wasn’t it. Dick had too much control over all his emotions for that.
Hm. Well.
Dick, Hal decided, could be described as a hero that could embody being a Blue Lantern of Hope as well as Barry but also use the Yellow Ring of Fear as well as Bruce.
Hell, maybe he could even be a Star Sapphire. He would sure as hell look great in that uniform…
Mornings were always a bit chaotic. Lian was good at being a little ball of energy so early, but Roy was not. He wasn’t as bad as a Bat, but the hours he was expected to wake up to get Lian to school was just cruel.
Roy watched as Lian bounded into the kitchen, wearing a homemade Nightwing hoodie.
Hero merch wasn’t a rare thing, but Nightwing was not a well known hero. That was by design, Roy knew, but it did make it harder when his baby girl came up to him and demanded clothes of ‘Uncle Nightwing.’ Roy couldn't tell her no, so he made it work.
Now it was a tradition. Along with the Superman and other Leaguers merchandise he would buy when Lian grew out of the old ones, Roy would print Nightwing’s symbol on a piece of clothing.
“The print on that one is starting to rub off, etai yazi,” Roy noted as he got a closer look at the hoodie. Lian looked down at the hoodie before pouting.
“These ones always rub off faster. It’s not fair.” Lian grabbed an apple from the counter, huffily taking a bite out of it. She was getting much too big, really. It felt like just yesterday when she was just still babbling; not able to form words let alone construct those words into sentences.
“Well, it’s not exactly professional quality. I got an iron and a will, but that’s about all, my love.” Roy pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to lead her out the door and towards the door. They didn’t need to be late two days in a row even though yesterday was totally not his fault.
“That’s not fair. Even grandpa’s clothes are better than this.” Lian rolled her eyes as she slid into the backseat. Roy couldn’t help but let out a snort as he entered the driver’s side. All Lian’s Green Arrow merchandise was gifted by Ollie himself after he saw Lian at 4 in a huge oversized Superman shirt she wore as a dress.
“Well, that’s because Ollie is actually known by people. Dick keeps himself secret so that he can do his job better.” That and because Dick hated being in the spotlight, but he left that tidbit on the tip of his tongue.
“But Uncle Dick is so cool! He’s like… the best.” Lian sounded appalled by what Roy had told her; as if she couldn’t imagine anyone not thinking Nightwing was the best hero there was.
“Hey, your dad’s pretty cool too.” Roy teased which prompted Lian to stick her tongue out at him. Roy laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, Nightwing’s the best. That’s why he’s our secret to keep. We keep him safer that way.” Lian stared out the window as she thought about it before nodding.
“Then that’s okay. Uncle Nightwing is the best kind of secret, though.” Lian nodded again and leaned back in her seat, satisfied. Roy smiled and focused back on driving.
“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
“Dick was a good teacher, you know.” Rose commented as she sparred with Slade. Slade simply hummed.
“I knew he would be,” Slade said as he pinned Rose down to the mat. “I’ve known the kid for a long time. I’ve seen him mold heroes before.” Slade let Rose get back up before he unwrapped his hands. “Those Titans didn’t end up like that overnight.
“Roy’s nice too,” Rose added, knowing the reaction that would get out of Slade. Slade paused before shaking his head.
“That’s one way to put it,” Slade brushed past before looking back at his daughter. “I had Grayson teach you for a reason, Rose. I would trust no one else to draw the true potential out of you.”
“He had that faith in me, too.” Rose sat down on the chair in front of the small desk in the safehouse they were staying at for the time. Dick had a different kind of faith in Rose than her father, though. Rose had seen it in his eyes despite how tired and almost defeated he had looked.
Dick had hope that Rose could be better than her father. That she could be like Joey before her. Part of Rose hoped that too, but really Dick had too much hope at the end of the day. Wilsons were what they were and Joey hadn’t exactly been free from Slade’s influence either.
Still, Rose wanted to live up to Dick’s hope a bit. She didn’t want to truly disappoint him.
“He has faith in everyone,” Slade cut into Rose’s thoughts. “He’s not a fool, but he can be… foolish.” Slade poured himself a glass of bourbon before leaning against the wall. “Grayson still believes that there’s good in me even after everything.”
“I guess I see where he’s coming from,” Rose snickered. Slade could be kind when he really wanted to be. “Nah, Dick’s something else.” Slade hummed and sipped his drink.
“Something else is right.”
Damian was an al Ghul. The grandson of The Demon and son of Talia. Not so much born as made to be perfect. The perfect heir, the perfect son. He trained to be the best and he was determined to reach it.
Damian was also a Wayne. Son of The Bat. A child born from a romance that his father would never properly pursue. A romance that was forbidden in the eyes of The Bat. Something that had to be off the table lest he forget about where his loyalty lied.
Those were two facts that Damian had long known. His mother told him plenty of things about why he was born and who the Bat really was. Damian grew up knowing his father was something special. Someone who could control the world around him.
However, those were not the only truths.
Damian, he dared to think, was also a Grayson. Richard had taught him that family went beyond blood, so the only logical conclusion was that, along with his mother and father, Richard shared the title of parent.
Richard had been the one to give Damian the chance, even when he found the task frustrating. Richard had fought for him. Had used the faith people had in him to give Damian a chance. Damian hadn’t truly appreciated it at the time, but he would learn to understand how important Richard’s words really were.
People listened to Richard. People trusted him. People believed him, even when he made it clear he would lie to them if he deemed it necessary. Richard had used that to help Damian. A kid that he didn’t have to take responsibility for but felt like he did.
Damian didn’t know what he would’ve done if he hadn’t.
Bruce was a great hero and Damian would always respect him, even try and emulate him, but Richard… Richard was his Batman. Richard was the one that made Damian understand what The Bat meant. What hope meant.
Richard was as much a parent to him as his mother was. Richard taught him what true strength was. Not the power to make people cower at your boot, but the power to make people smile. Damian was not like Richard, but deep down he wanted to be.
Batman was a hopeful figure, Damian understood that now, but he wasn’t Nightwing. His father could never find that perfect balance between hope and fear. That was why he needed his Robins.
Damian wasn’t Nightwing either, but he would be the best Robin he could be. There was no compromise for that.
“Darling, I think it’s bedtime.” Wally wrapped his arms around his husband, pressing a kiss to his neck. Dick batted at Wally’s face, not pulling his eyes away from the papers he was looking at. While Wally loved Dick very much, his ability to get lost in work was borderline insufferable. It wouldn’t be nearly as bad if Dick would just go to bed.
But no.
Wally had to drag his lover to bed kicking and screaming.
“Batting me away is not gonna work,” Wally insisted, pushing Dick’s papers down and towards the desk. Dick pouted but did turn to look at Wally which was a success in his books.
“I’m in the middle of something, Walls. I’ll go to bed when I’m done,” Dick insisted. Wally shook his head and pulled Dick away from the desk.
“Okay, but when are you gonna finish your research? In an hour? Two? 20?” Wally raised his brow. “How about, instead, we go to bed now and you can look at the case again with fresh eyes.”
“You’re such a hypocrite,” Dick complained but followed Wally’s lead to the bedroom which was a huge success.
“We’re all hypocrites, babe. It’s part of the job.” Wally pressed a kiss to Dick’s forehead before pushing him down onto the bed. He took the second to appreciate how absolutely cute Dick looked all flopped over on the bed. So many people appreciated Dick, so many people loved him, but Wally was the one that had him in his bed. He was the one that shared his home with Dick. He was the one that was able to propose and marry Dick.
Dick wore the ring Wally picked out. And god it had taken a while for Wally to find one that he deemed perfect enough.
Everyone loved Nightwing, but it was Wally’s job to love Dick.
“See? Isn’t the bed comfy?” Wally teased, leaning over to kiss Dick’s forehead. Dick pouted but did close his eyes and hum after a moment. “Yeah, that’s right.” Wally cupped Dick’s cheek as he drifted off into sleep before even getting under the covers. Wally shook his head and manhandled Dick until he was actually properly in bed before climbing in next to him.
Dick was infuriating when he wanted to be, (one man had no right to be so stubborn,) but really Wally couldn’t’ve asked for a better partner. For a better Lightning Rod. Dick was good at almost everything, but Wally was always surprised by how well Dick could pull him back to earth.
The Speed Force was so easy to get lost in, but it was impossible to forget Dick. Genuinely impossible. Without Dick… Well, Wally certainly wouldn’t be where he was. He would’ve gotten lost in the Speed Force permanently a long time ago. Sure, Wally’s connection to the Speed Force was special, but even the largest lightning strikes needed something to pull them in.
Wally cupped Dick’s cheek again as he pulled his sleeping body up against his. Even though his aging was slowed along with Wally’s, there were still stress lines that wrinkled Dick’s skin just enough to be noticeable up close.
Wally pressed a kiss to the corner of Dick’s eye before closing his own.
Maybe he would have to use his husband privilege to pull Dick away from his work a little longer than just the night.