Under Batman's guidance, Y/n was reborn as Falcon, alongside Dick's Robin. They thrived as Gotham's protectors until a pivotal moment shook their world: Dick was seriously injured by a gunshot. Batman, fearing for their safety, proposed to sideline...
Y/n stood momentarily dumbfounded as Alfred regarded him with a familiar, stoic expression. "Master Y/n," Alfred greeted in his usual formal tone.
"Who is it?" Dick called out from the bed, curiosity prompting him to lean over to see who was at the door.
"Hello, Master Dick," Alfred greeted as Dick came into view.
"Shit," Dick muttered under his breath.
"Language," Alfred chided sharply.
"How mad is Bruce?" Y/n ventured, apprehensive about the consequences of their sudden departure.
"He was quite displeased initially," Alfred admitted. "However, I managed to have a discussion with him, and we've reached a mutual understanding. He's en route here now, but there's still some time. I thought it might be agreeable to procure some club sandwiches in the interim," Alfred proposed, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Y/n and Dick exchanged a quick glance. "I could definitely go for some club sandwiches," Y/n responded, a small smile breaking through his concern.
Dick simply shrugged in agreement.
"Very well. Please, come along," Alfred said, leading the way down the creaking motel stairs. "Oh, and I brought a friend. He insisted on lying by your door until I allowed him to come along."
Curious, Y/n approached the car and opened the passenger side door, about to ask Alfred a question when suddenly something struck him in the stomach, sending him tumbling to the ground with an "Ow."
A wet tongue swept across his face, and Y/n looked up to see Ace, Bruce's loyal dog, panting and wagging his tail with sheer joy.
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"Get off me, you mutt," Y/n said with a laugh, pushing the enthusiastic dog gently away while scratching him affectionately on the head.
___________ A New Light _______________
Sitting in a booth at Blanko's Diner, Y/n soaked in the ambiance of what appeared to be Jump City's favorite hangout. Styled like a 1980s diner, the establishment boasted vibrant black leather seats and green LED lights that traced the contours of the ceiling. At the center, a bar area offered everything from alcoholic beverages to classic milkshakes, catering to a diverse array of tastes.
Beside them, Ace sprawled contentedly on the floor, his tongue hanging out and tail thumping rhythmically against the ground. Alfred, ever the attentive guardian, cast a scrutinizing gaze over the two young men. "I trust you boys are eating well and healthy," he remarked, a hint of concern underlying his words.
Y/n and Dick exchanged quick, guilty glances. With the investigation consuming their every waking hour over the past few days, Y/n had often skipped meals, opting to delve deeper into the case rather than eat. Dick, in contrast, snacked incessantly while poring over clues, a constant grazer who nudged Y/n towards sustenance, though often in vain.
