If I can't be everything to you.....you will be nothin to me

mistakes and truth

" tom dupain-cheng"

Bruce pawed over the files, spread the thin white pages over his desk and scowled at the magazine clippings with the face of a man he’d never met, but knew well.

The man who wanted to call Dahlia his daughter  . Dick leaned over his shoulder, pointed at one page of the file with a poorly-concealed downturn of his lip.

“Star and I looked into tom dupain  cheng ’s bakery  business, since he’s new money. But, you see, what’s funny is that he doesn’t make enough off of his bakery  to make his net worth.”

a trail he wouldn’t have thought to check. He lifted the profits page, likely obtained with little legality, if he knew Dick. Just like he’d taught him.

“So he’s making the money elsewhere. Let me guess…” weapons .

Kori gave a wry smile. “You probably guessed it.”

“It’s final,” Bruce slammed his hands at the desk, pushed out of his seat. Kori’s eyes widened, and she took a step back, but Dick stayed perfectly still, he could feel his eyes on him as his fingers clenched at the wood.

“Dahlia will not be marrying a dupain cheng !” Not his girl , not his youngest, who deserved to belong to a healthy family, a happy family.

She didn’t need more baggage, to belong to another life of crime and blood when she’d spent so long escaping from it the first ten years of his life. His little girl. He would not allow it.

“Bruce,” Dick started, and he set a hand at his shoulder again, to keep him in line, the way he always had, as the first Robin, as the only Grayson, as his first child.

“What you said before still stands, and telling Dahlia she’s forbidden to marry marcel  is as good as handing her over to the dupain chengs.”

As his first child, he’d know that, know it better than any of the rest. Knew that the sins of his father couldn’t be blamed on the girl herself.

That’s how Dahlia would justify it, and that was exactly how Dahlia would get herself stuck in a cycle. He needed to play the long game, figure out why Dahlia was doing this in the first place, make things right, even if he could only alleviate the pain, the pressure. He grimaced.

Kori came around the back, wrapped her arm around Dick’s, gave him a look with furrowed brows and sad eyes, filled with empathy in the pinch of her nose. “We don’t even know for sure that marcel  is involved. We suspect it, of course, but if we’re bringing this to Dahlia, we need proof.”

“Luckily,” Dick gave him a warm smile, with just a hint of arrogance. “Jason and Tim are already on it.”

_______________________________________

He was gross. He felt gross, lazing around on the couch, bored out of his mind, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling and finding nothing.

He rested his hands at his stomach, tried to listen to the comedy show he had on low, but his mind wasn’t there.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to picture Dahlia’s face shrouded by the shadows of the sky and the lights of the city, tried to remember the smell of the gas and oil and the perfume wandering club guests sprayed in the gallons.

He could feel Dahlia’s shoulder brushing against his if he just tried, could turn and see him watching over the city with a small smile, his smile, the best smile there was.

He reached out to brush her cheek, to touch her, but his hand met nothing, and he opened his eyes.

Did he really want to be by her side?

His phone chimed at the coffee table, and he very nearly ignored it like he had been, nearly rolled over and dug his face into the cushions instead of reaching back out to the friends who were asking where he was, if he had plans.

He didn’t want to think about the coming week, about how less than two would see him sitting in a church with three feet between him and the girl who’d haunted him for weeks and months, for years if he was honest with himself.

Was he being honest with himself? He clicked his tongue, and maybe it was because he was annoyed with himself, or because hearing the “tt” aloud did wonders for his heavy heart.

Jon rolled around, reached for his phone, ready to tell Kathy that he was too busy to go to the summer fair this weekend, ready to tell Gar that he couldn’t make it to the next team meeting, ready to tell his billion and one friends from school that he had a million and one chores to do and he wouldn’t have the time to hang out.

He was ready to lie, say he had summer classes, say he’d sprained his foot and couldn’t join his friends to play football at the park. He swiped his phone open and hit the newest notification.

But the text message only gave him an address to an amusement park, a copy of a ticket, and a time-- and the text was from Dahlia .

His heart skipped a beat, then leaped, and his stomach did flips, and his knees felt weak.

Rao , Dahlia texted him! She wanted to meet him! She wanted to see him! He might have made a sound that a human being (or something close to it) should have been incapable of making, squealed and leapt from the couch, and he didn’t even care that his mom had a “no powers“ rule in the house-- he used some of his super speed to zoom right to the shower.

Dahlia wanted to see him, Dahlia wanted to talk, and he couldn’t stop smiling and he was laughing to himself as the water hit his face and the bubbles escaped his stomach through his throat. He couldn’t keep it in.

He was going to see Damian, and he was going to smooth things out between them, whatever he had to do, he’d do it.

If it meant getting his best friend back, if it meant figuring out what exactly he’d been feeling the last few weeks, he’d do it. He’d  do it all for Dahlia and more.

1055 WORDS