Dick Grayson one shots

The forgotten hero

Whumptober day 5: alternate prompt —> forgotten

Dick stared at Bruce, a melancholy look flashing over his face. He'd hoped deep deep down that Bruce would recognize him regardless of the disguise he currently wore. But it didn't seem that he did.

He couldn't fault the man however, he'd forgotten everything... the acrobat had never been much of an exception to things like that.

It was painful, looking in the face of his father figure after being sent on a near suicide mission. He finally got to see the man he'd been desperately trying to contact for months... he'd just wanted to come home. Now, however, it was clear he wouldn't be welcomed back.

Bruce looked at his son, eyes empty of recognition. To him he was just another stranger.

—

Gotham had settled from its daily bustle to the relative stillness of its nights.

Dick crouched on the roof of a random building, feeling a bit like a child as he watched for any sign of his family. He was done with Spyral, done with bending to the will of corrupt men and women who claimed to have the world's best interests in mind. He wanted his family back.

He caught a flash in the darkness, and his heart leapt. Perhaps he should've rethought his decision to come in street clothes. His mind flitted to his Gotham equipment stash... it wasn't too far away... maybe he should go put the suit on for old time's sake.

The thought of donning the Nightwing suit again after all he'd done made him feel sick... it was better to leave those memories in the past for the time being.

Jason's red helmet caught the light for a moment as he swung past, pulling Dick from his spiral of thought.

Dick leapt off the building flipping and swinging after the familiar forms of his brothers.

They stopped on top of a shorter office building, turning to each other like they were having a conversation... or an argument... you never knew with those two.

Dick landed lightly behind them. "Hey," he called, startling the two of them. A punch to the face caught him off guard, sending him to the ground.

"Why are you following us?" Jason growled.

Dick blinked up at him. Sure, he'd fully expected his brothers to be angry... to some degree. He'd let them think he was dead after all... but this seemed a little off. "I thought you'd be at least a little excited to see me," he mumbled, wiping at the blood that had started dripping from his nose.

"Why would we be excited to see you?" Tim asked.

"Look... I know I hurt our... our family, but Bruce—"

Dick never got to finish what he was going to say.

Tim had him pinned, an arm pressed to his throat. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"T-im?" Dick wheezed, trying to process what the younger had just asked while fighting to get breath into his lungs. He managed to push the younger off of him and jump to his feet.

"Answer the question," Jason said, the sound of him cocking his gun echoing. "Who are you?"

"Jay..."

A gunshot echoed, Dick's knee buckled, sending him to his knees.

"You shot him?" Tim asked, shoving Jason's shoulder.

"Why not?" Jason responded.

Tim dragged a hand over his face.