Evangeline wants to be (upintheclouds) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-04-03 11:07:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !dc comics, *narrative, dick grayson |
Narrative: Dick Grayson/Batman
Who: Dick Grayson - Batman
What: Letting the Bat stretch his legs
Where: Gotham City
When: This night
Warnings/Rating: None to speak of!
It had been a while since Dick had donned the cape and cowl - the last time Bruce had gone missing actually. And before that it had been even longer - when Damian was a boy. When things were a bit more normal. But he'd gotten used to the new normal. He hadn't had a choice in the matter, but he found himself getting there slowly but surely and despite the bumps in the road - his death and resurrection, Damian's death, and the good bits with Babs, and with Jason, and Steph in between - Dick was healing.
The voice he shared in his mind, through the doors, had faded - he didn't know what had happened, but once again things were shifting and he felt better trying to deal with it this time around. More well equipped both physically and emotionally. He felt more like himself again if he was honest. He gave up trying to be anyone's right version of himself, and gave up expecting that in return. He didn't look at it as something bad to give up - it wasn't the same as calling it a day and retreating into himself. That would have been the real tragedy. No, Dick Grayson was back.
He wasn't going to lie and say that things were the same, or that he was fine - of course he wasn't. Their patriarch was missing once again, and that worried him. His morning had been spent at Wayne Enterprises schmoozing and charming everyone he came into contact with - that part came easier to him than it ever had to Bruce, but entertaining was deeply imbedded into who Dick Grayson was. Not to say Bruce wasn't good at it, but it was safe to say that Dick actually enjoyed it.
Important decisions made, documents signed, meetings attended, and fears put at ease, Dick had gone back to the manor at sunset and prepared for his night out in the cape - there had been a surge of emotion, the thought of being Batman without Damian at his side. But he had pushed through it, that was what it was about. Batman wasn't about him, or about Bruce, or about Damian - not anymore. And not right now. This was about finding Bruce, being strong when Gotham couldn't be, and maybe a little bit of finding himself.
Taking on the mantle was never supposed to have been the plan, even back where Dick came from - in his Gotham. Bruce had advised against it - but it had been a necessity. And a price he had been willing to pay all along even if he hadn't known it yet. And it was something he was willing to do now, and while he had been light hearted about it (if you have a chance to be Batman ALWAYS be Batman), he understood the seriousness of what he was taking on. Every time the cowl slipped on, he knew the burden he was carrying. The burden to always make the right choice, even when it was hard and unfair. A city rested on the shoulders of the suit, and that responsibility could never be lost, not even for the briefest moment. People trained the way Dick had been trained knew that seconds meant the difference between life and death. Seconds mattered, probably more for Batman than anyone else. Decisions had to be made - loss of life had to be avoided at all costs - and that could never be forgotten no matter the circumstances. No matter the crimes. No matter the persons involved - the decisions that rested with Batman were never easy.
That burden surged through him, but he carried it proudly, he always had. It was what he was raised to do after all. The night wore on, he made sure he was not only seen - the image of Batman was as important to the city as the duties he held - but made sure that he made a difference. It wasn't just a showboat to show the world that of course Batman was here and around and watching the city. The sightings made little difference if nothing was done on the streets. So he worked, and he fought, and he looked for information about the whereabouts of Bruce.
When the first light of dawn began to peak over the horizon Dick was aching and bruised but knew that his job for the night was over. He stood on the ledge of the second tallest building on the Gotham skyline and watched the sunrise as he'd done so many times before. He replayed the events of the night in his mind, and while it would be easy to be buried under what he'd seen and experienced - Gotham was dirty place with dirty secrets and even dirtier laundry hanging out for everyone to see - he couldn't allow that to happen. Because as the city below him woke up - and the dirty secrets went to bed for the day - it was still standing. The world was still turning. And for a moment it was almost peaceful and the burden he'd agreed to was lightened just a bit. There were new people in the city jail that evening. There were people getting a renewed lease on life, there had been hope in the eyes of people he came across even after the toxin, and that was enough. That was enough to get Dick through the hardest days of his own life - and this didn't even rate in the top ten.
The light was becoming brighter now, no time for a Bat to be out and about so he ran across the roof top, the cape (a bit lighter now after the moment of clarity and calm) blew behind him and he made his way across the city - in the only way Batman could - and disappeared into the dawn as quickly as he appeared the previous night and before too long Dick Grayson, clad in jeans, tee shirt, and leather jacket, was walking down the street toward a certain clock tower with a box of donuts in hand and a redhead in mind.