How To Balance Your Daytime And Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You
How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
A knock on the door was not what Danny was expecting that evening. In the two weeks of observation and one week of actually staying with the man, Danny had figured that Dick, for as friendly as he is, did not have many friends. And if he did, they didn't visit him a lot, if at all. So, a knock on the door exactly thirty minutes before Nightwing was set to go out was a suspicious surprise.
He answered it anyway.
On the other side of the door was a kid about his age, an inch or two taller. He had dark hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and eyebags dark enough to rival Danny's own. He also smelled faintly of coffee.
"Um," Danny started dumbly. "Hello?"
"I'm looking for Richard Grayson." The kid's accent was stronger than Dick's, putting him as a born and raised Gotham resident. There was also a hint of something that reminded Danny of Sam's parents. This kid comes from money.
"And you are?"
Obviously upset about being stalled, he huffed, "Timothy Drake. Are you going to let me in now?"
How does someone sound so rude and so polite at the same time? Obviously a skill Danny needs to learn. "Why-"
"Who's at the door, Danny?" Dick called from the hallway, making his way closer. He was in his Nightwing costume, minus the mask, but had covered it with a hoodie and sweatpants.
"Tim Drake," Tim introduced himself again, pushing Danny out of the way and entering the apartment to greet Dick with a handshake. "You're Bruce's Wayne's kid, Richard 'Dick' Grayson."
"Yeah, that's-"
"You need to come back and be Robin again."
There was a moment of silence as Danny closed the door softly. Then, "Excuse me?" Dick's smile was strained and his eyes narrowed slightly.
"You need to come back and be Batman's Robin again. You don't have to don the suit, but he needs you." There was a hint of desperation in Tim's voice now. "He's been spiraling since Jason died, and he's starting to hit harder. Most of the guys he beats up end up in the emergency room! Some of them have even died from their injuries! Batman needs your help! He needs a Robin."
Dick was quiet for a moment. "No."
"What?"
"I won't- I can't go back to being Robin. I can't go back to being in that house."
"Why not?"
"I just can't. Now, I don't know how you found me or how you found out who I was, but you need to go back to Gotham, Tim."
"But-"
"Now, Tim. You're parent's are probably freaking out about where you are right now."
Tim didn't say anything for a long moment, he feet rooted in place. Just as Dick turned around to go to the fire escape, he spoke, "My parents don't care where I am." Louder, he said, "Bruce is going to start directly killing people if you don't go back there and help him."
"Why should I help him?" Dick demanded. "He didn't even tell me that my little brother had died! I didn't even get to go to his funeral! And then Bruce had the audacity to punch me in the face and blame me for not being there! I'm not going back to Gotham, I'm not putting on the Robin suit again, and I sure as hell am not going to help Batman. he made it clear that he works alone, so let him." With his peace said, Dick took his hoodie and sweatpants off, donned his domino and escrima sticks, and left through the window fifteen minutes early.
Neither Tim nor Danny said anything for a long few minutes, neither bothering to move. Too many thoughts in each of their heads with no way to properly form words.
Finally, after nearly seven minutes, Danny's voice broke through the air. "I'm sorry he yelled at you."
Tim, having forgotten Danny was there, jumped and turned to face him. "What?"
"He hasn't been the same since Jason died, not that I know what he was like before."
"What do you mean?"
Danny moved into the kitchen, pulling down two cups, filling them with water before offering one to Tim and leading him to sit down on the couch.
"I don't know a lot about the situation, I've only been here for three weeks now, but I know that Dick is still hurting. Nightmares, hallucinations, the works. He's been more violent recently, too, but obviously not as much as Batman has been."
"You, uh, you know?"
"Yeah. Kinda hard not to figure it out while living here, and you coming in today didn't help that." Tim blushed and sipped his water. "Though, like you, I showed up on Dick's doorstep already knowing he's Nightwing."
"Oh? And how well did that pan out for you?"
Danny shrugged. "I offered him help and refused to leave until he accepted it."
Tim laughed. "That's what I did to Bruce!"
They shared a smile. Danny lifted his cup as if to toast. "Here's to a couple of goblins with hero complexes." Tim lifted his cup to join Danny's toast and they both took a drink.
Giggling, the two finished their water in relative quiet, the air around them comfortable.
"Say," Tim asked, putting his cup down on the coffee table, "How old are you?"
"Fourteen. You?"
"Same."
"Cool."
"You're parents know where you are?"
"Nope. I would ask if yours do, but you already answered that."
"Yeah, they aren't really around much. I did tell Alfred I'd be gone, though, so he knows I'm not home."
"Yeah, but does he know you're here?"
"No."
"Hm." A beat. "Who's Alfred?"
Another laugh startled out of Tim. "Bruce's butler. Did Dick tell you nothing?"
Danny shrugged again. "I haven't pushed for answers about anything; I'm not a therapist. I'm just here because he's going to end up killing himself at the rate he's been working himself."
"So is Bruce," Tim admitted softly, "But he's going to end up taking Gotham down with him if no one stops him."
"So what are you going to do?"
He thought for a long minute, weighing options in his mind before saying, "I guess I'll have to be the help he needs me to be."
Danny tilted his head sideways like a dog. "What do you mean?"
Tim squared his shoulders, though he was still hesitant. "Batman needs a Robin, and if Dick isn't going to be that for him, then I guess I'll have to be."
Another beat. "But do you want to be a vigilante?"
"Does it matter if I want to be?" Tim asks, "If I don't then no one will." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Gotham is my home. I can't let Bruce destroy it in his grief."
"I understand." Danny nodded, "But what you want does matter. I know I can't stop you, so I'm not going to try, but I'm going to make you promise me something." He made sure to hold Tim's gaze. "You ask for help when you need it." He held out his hand and waited.
"What?"
"You're phone. Give it to me." Reluctantly, he did so. As soon as the flip phone was in his hand, Danny put his number in it before giving it back. 'You don't have to do this alone, okay, Tim? Promise that you'll call me when you need help, okay? Any time of day, I'll answer."
Tim stared at his now closed phone, the weight grounding him for a moment. "Are you going to be a vigilante to help Nightwing?"
"I already am."
"Huh?"
"It's why I'm here, It's why I know I can't stop you and why I'm making sure you know I'll be here to help you."
Nothing else was said between the boys. Nothing else needed to be said.
Part 7 Part 9
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