Slow Down, I'm Coming

by Grayson1996

Summary:

Dick Grayson was a flight risk.

It was a universal truth that surprised all except those who knew him. It wasn’t fair to say that Dick was flighty, he was never flaky and never thoughtless. He came when called and stayed when needed. But he was restless, always in motion, always on the move. Brain always on to the next thing even as his body stayed until a task was complete.

Whumptober Day 1: Search Party | Panic Attack | “If only we could hold on”

Notes:

Life is a mess right now, but it's Whumptober cool cats!

No. 1: Race Against the Clock

Search Party | Panic Attack | “If only we could hold on”

 

Dick Grayson was a flight risk.

 

It was a universal truth that surprised all except those who knew him. It wasn’t fair to say that Dick was flighty, he was never flaky and never thoughtless. He came when called and stayed when needed. But he was restless, always in motion, always on the move. Brain always on to the next thing even as his body stayed until a task was complete.

 

It was a trait that only got worse when he was exhausted. When his whole being was on autopilot, propelling him forward until he could rest. Dick loved people, no one would argue that, but Dick also healed alone. Whether it be injury or anxiety, he crawled away to his hoval to clean his wounds and screw on his head away from prying eyes.

 

Most of his fights with Bruce occurred because the other man refused to let him do so. Dick’s natural aversion to being confined was always at odds with Bruce’s desire to hold everything he cared about in an unrelenting grip.

 

He couldn’t stop it though, when Dick felt unsafe, he ran. 

 

His siblings knew this and had gotten better at following after him, with enough distance that Dick felt supported but not suffocated. It was a delicate balance, but one Jason had mastered over the years through trial and error. It helped that Dick was at the very least consistent in where he went—allowing himself to be found afterward. 

 

This, however, proved not the case when a memory spell whammied Nightwing in the middle of patrol sending him flying off into a panicked flee when it was clear he didn’t recognize any of them.

 

All his usual haunts were left vacant, and the Bats were scattered around Gotham, checking her streets for signs of the missing bird.

 

Jason had been searching for hours, the first glint of morning sun coloring the slate gray rooftops, illuminating the gothic architecture's nooks and crannies.

 

Through his comm he heard Robin sound off that yet another one of their safehouses had come up empty and with a sigh Jason let himself lean against the spire of the old cathedral in town. Exhaustion barely concealed his own panic.

 

“Fuck Goldie, where the hell are you?”

 

Anyone of them without a memory was bad, but Jason hadn’t liked the particularly horrified look that had graced his brother’s face when he had been hit, moments before running from them.

 

Moving his eyes across the city skyline he tried to conjure up where Dick could have gone.

 

As much as Dick appreciated distance, he also appreciated height.

 

Jason supposed it came from not only being raised by acrobats but spending so many formative years running across rooftops. Jason would never tell Dick this, but he always found his brother's fascination with height morbid considering the man’s parents died from falling. But perhaps in a bid to reclaim his own trauma, Dick had never been one to let himself be grounded.

 

The highest point in Gotham was Wayne Industries, but the roof had been checked and there had been nowhere to hide, especially with the giant ‘W’ illuminating the night sky surrounding it. Grand Station and the Clock Tower had also been busts, and the cathedral had been next on the list. The spirals reached up to almost 200 feet and had enough angles and platforms that it took Jason nearly 30 minutes to search out.

 

Calling it a bust, Jason reached up his hand to get his next location from Oracle, when the sun's rays shifted just slightly as it moved up the sky. Causing a golden beam to illuminate a previously darkened corner Jason had assumed was a wall, and the barest hint of blue to flash before being covered.

 

An immediate wave of relief washed over him, and quickly lowering his hands he jumped down to the arched platform. Boots hitting the ground with a soft thwap, it was clear Dick heard him, because the little bit of his brother he could see cowered into the corner, tightened with tension.

 

“You going to come out, or am I going to have to go in and drag you?” It wasn’t really a threat, but Jason saw Dick flinch despite that. “Do you know who I am?” No response, but Jason wasn’t expecting one. With a sigh, he sat down on the ledge and pulled out a cigarette. Purposefully not looking at Dick as he lit it. “Do you know who you are?”

 

“No.”

 

The response surprised Jason, though he tried not to show. Dick’s voice came out quiet and afraid, though driven by the possibility of answers.

 

“Not surprised. Magic user got a good shot at you during patrol. Brain’s probably scrambled. We need to get you enlisted in AA, ‘Amnesialoic Anonymous’. I think you’re addicted.”

 

“You can’t be addicted to Amnesia.”

 

“Trust me Goldie, you’d be the first.” Feeling as though he could do so safely, Jason took a drag and looked over at the corner, to see Dicks hesitant face peeking out at him, mask no longer covering his eyes. “Please tell me you don’t have any burning desire to go by the name Rick?” Dick’s face scrunched, as though he too was disgusted by the name.

 

“Is that my name?”

 

“Fuck no, Your name is Barthemelew.”

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

“Okay, you got me… It’s Oswald.”

 

'You're lying to me.’

 

“Yep.” Jason responded, popping the ‘P’ in a cavalier manner. The only way to get Dick to not run was to get him comfortable. Which usually meant avoiding talking about the actual issue and playing up the banter.

 

Most emotionally available family member my ass.

 

Throughout the exchange, Dick slowly peeked further out allowing Jason to see a goose egg-sized bruise on his right temple. 

 

“Get in a fight with a wall?”

 

Tentatively Dick reached up and pressed the bruise, flinching at how tender it was.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“A bill collector, you see, I’ve been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty-” 

 

“-Can you not?” Jason bit his tongue at his brother's interruption, Dick’s face shifting into an annoyed sort of panic. “Please. Can you just tell me what's going on?”

 

Immediately guilt flooded Jason, but he took another pull from his cigarette to hide it.

 

“Sorry. I’m your brother.”

 

“I don’t have a brother.”

 

Jason flinched at the words, despite them not being said meanly. Having never heard them from Dick before.

 

“I thought you didn’t remember anything?”

 

“No, you assumed I didn’t. I just said I don’t remember my name.” 

 

With an annoyed sigh, Jason turned to face Dick, exhaustion making his already fried nerves shorter.

 

“Well fuck, do you want to share with the rest of the class what's going on in your head?”

 

“There’s a man.” With a quick turn behind him, Jason surveyed the area, only to find the two still blissfully alone. “In my head, there’s a man.”

 

“What does he look like?”

 

“Big… Scary… I don’t think he likes me.”

 

A feeling of unease seeped into Jason’s bones, striking him with the early morning breeze.

 

“Black hair, blue eyes, and a propensity for justice?”

 

“He kicked me out.”

 

Jason stared blankly, not following where in the conversation they were heading.

 

“ What? ”

 

“The man kicked me out.”

 

“Bruce?”

 

“ Bruce. ” Dick tried on the name and with it came a flash of recognition which served to make Jason even more weary. “I think he hates me.”

 

“Goldie, you must be more fucked up than we thought. Because in no world do I think it's possible for Bruce to hate you .”

 

“He kicked me out, I ran, and nobody followed me.” Dick pressed, memories intermixing inside his frazzled mind. Showing him something Jason had no context for. “Nobody followed me. Nobody looked.”

 

“I looked.” Jason pressed, wanting to ease whatever storm was brewing in the other. “You ran, and I looked Dick. I’m here. Forget about Bruce.”

 

‘Even when I don’t know my name, I can’t forget his. I don’t think I want to remember how this story ends.”

 

Dick began to stand and panic rushed through Jason as he realized his brother was gearing up to run again. Gearing up to hide where he thought no one would find him. Reaching out a hand to grab Dick’s arm, Jason pulled him back down with a firm grip.

 

“It ends with me looking for you Goldie. It ends with a search party whose only job is to make sure you get home. You want to run, run, but you got people to run after you now. You got me to remind you that you do.”

 

“Why?”

 

The question was so genuine it made Jason feel the need to grieve. 

 

“How bout we get you home and get your head put back together so that you can answer that question yourself?”

 

Dick peered down, head tilted, looking more like a bird than Jason could ever remember him looking. Curiosity and hope outwinning whatever demons were lurking just behind his eyes, providing him with out-of-date information, and forcing him to question who he was.

 

“If I don’t you’re going to run after me?”

 

“Yep… But I’ll give you a ten-second head start if it would make you feel better?”

 

The offer spurred a small smile to slowly creep onto Dick’s face, melting the tension in Jason’s shoulders at the sight of it.

 

“I guess I can save you the chase.”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Whumptober 2024