Dick Grayson One-Shots { requests open }

she puts the c in ass and he puts the d in wally

—— • ꧁꧂ • ——

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗽 (𝗶𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘆): n/a

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 907

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: cass and dick being fluffy for an entire one shot

𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: attachment issues

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆: Lopenblade

——  •  ꧁꧂  •  ——

Growing up, Dick was always prone to latch onto things. Usually stupid things that really held no value. Blame on what you want-- his parents dying, Bruce being distant, being treated like an adult before he was even in double digits-- but it doesn't really matter in the end. What does is that, obviously, when one of these things gets ruined, Dick turns into a mess.

And that's exactly what happened the day he stained his favorite t-shirt.

He'd been messing around with hair dye, experimenting to see just how bright blue he could get his dark curls. It wasn't working all that well but he was having fun so it didn't really matter. He'd been careful, wearing a towel around his neck and being careful not to smear the staining blue liquid. But, alas, he hadn't been careful enough because, later that night as he removed his shirt to get in the shower, he noticed a large blue stain all across the back of the purple fabric. Immediately, he began to panic, tears welling in his eyes and breath catching in his throat. He completely shut down, having no idea what to do. Alfred was off in England and the rest of the family didn't know shit about doing their own laundry. Frantically, he looked up the solution but the first thing he read was that you were supposed to wash the shirt immediately after staining it. That sent him into a full blown panic attack. Rough sobs wracked his body as he slid down onto his bathroom floor, cradling his precious shirt to his chest. He'd ruined it. He'd ruined the thing he loved with all of his heart and, now, he could never fix it. Why hadn't he just worn a different shirt? Why had he messed up the one shirt that meant everything to him and could never be replaced?

"Dick?" a quiet voice made the seventeen-year-old glance up, tears streaming down his face. He immediately noticed Cass standing in the doorway, watching him with a confused and worried expression.

Dick tried to open his mouth to assure the girl he was okay, but the sobs and mental breakdown just wouldn't allow for that. Instead, he whimpered and buried his head in his hands. He felt his little sister inch close to him until she was sitting beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. "You okay?" she asked genuinely, looking a bit hesitant for a moment that she'd asked the wrong thing but then deciding that it was, in fact, right. She didn't know much about speaking, let alone speaking correctly. She'd never been educated as a child and now it was making it hard to communicate. The family was trying to teach her but it was a long and slow process. Though, it didn't quite matter most of the time as Cassandra was a chosen mute that only spoke when necessary. But, still, it was moments like these that she wished she was better.

"Yeah," Dick finally choked out through his tears. He showed her the shirt, "I- I messed up my favorite shirt. I don't think I can fix it."

The dark-haired girl took the shirt and hummed, "I fix."

Dick whirled around to face Cass, eyes wide with hope, "You can fix it?!"

Cass nodded, a wide smile on her face. "Yes. I fix."

Dick threw his arms around the girl, sobbing onto her shoulder, "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! This means so much to me, Cass, you have no idea!"

Cas smiled to herself, wrapping her arms around her older brother. "No problem." She pulled away and started to get up, taking the shirt with her. She looked at her brother reassuringly, "I fix it."

Dick watched her go, a sense of hope growing in his gut. He wiped away his tears, taking in a deep, shaky breath before standing up and going over to collapse on his bed. He laid there for an hour, trapped in his own thoughts, until, finally, Cass came back.

"I fix it," she grinned widely, showing Dick the shirt that looked good as new. His face said it all. Cass knew she'd done good. She watched with a proud smile as Dick took the shirt and held it close to his chest. A tear slipped down his cheek as he stepped forward and pulled his sister into a tight embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered softly.

Cass smiled, feeling happier than she had in a long time. "No problem." She'd made her big brother feel better. She'd fixed what was broken and that made her feel good. She was needed. She was relevant. She wasn't helpless. She'd done good and that was what mattered.

For years to come after that, even after Cass mastered speaking and grammar and everything else under the moon, the thing she was still most proud of was making her brother happy. And for years and years after that, Dick loved Cass just a bit more for saving a piece of his heart.