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Title: Together We Grieve
Progress: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of major character death, one instance of swearing. Angst.
Word count: 818
Summary: The aftermath of Dick Grayson's death.
A/N: I haven't posted on here in forever. And I've stopped writing Merlin fanfiction and moved onto comics...but I might go back to Merlin eventually.
The Cave is full of overwhelming darkness. The place has been filled with the silence of death once before, and now it is again. It’s empty without Dick, without his life and energy and light. He was someone who understood and never forgot the joy of simply being alive, but now, that is gone. Shadows fill every corner that his laugh had lit up, and now the air is heavy with the knowledge that his life will never again ease the silence and the hurt of his family’s lives. The loss is as sharp as their minds, heavy as the armour on their chests, slick as the blood on their gauntlets and as clear as the tear track marks against the grime on their faces.
Can it be called home anymore, if Dick is gone? With Jason’s return, they had a few months of happiness. Dick was possibly the most joyful at Jason’s return, at his little brother’s rejoining their family, but now he is gone. Murdered. Shot in the head, protecting the innocent. One of the ways he would have been most happy to die, surpassed by only one other – protecting his family, innocent or not.
Bruce seems almost emotionless. Quiet and stoic as usual, but still heartbroken – if you look hard and long enough, you can tell. It’s in the way he moves, efficient but still somehow heavy. It’s in the way he can’t speak, only breathe heavily, trying to swallow around the dryness in his throat. It’s in the way he touches each of his remaining boys; a touch of Jason’s face, a stroke of Tim’s hair, a hand on Damian’s shoulder.
Jason is silent took, the sorrow visible in his eyes. He had come home at last, been happy. And then all that had been shattered, with just one bullet. Sometimes the others forget that Dick was Jason’s big brother first. Remembering Dick’s voice – hey there, Jaybird, Little Wing – helps Jason move, comforting Tim and Damian with his touch. He’s the oldest now, responsible for taking care of his little brothers.
Tim can’t say a word. He can’t move. He can’t do anything. He just sits there while his mind jars as it tries to process the loss of another loved one. His brother. Tears gather in his eyes as he realizes that the others he lost – Stephanie, Conner, Bart – came back, but Dick won’t. Just like Tim’s dad, Dick is gone forever, and he prays he never loses any of his family again.
Damian doesn’t utter a single word, but he manages to make the only noise in the Cave anyway. He rages around the place, kicking and hitting and making incomprehensible howls of rage and anguish and fear and despair, wishing cruelly that the innocent bystander that Dick died protecting was dead instead.
*
It’s different in public, when the Waynes are at a function and they have to socialize, be comforted by empty words from near-strangers, thank them in voices that aren’t even theirs. Here, they have to hide.
Bruce nods and smiles weakly at the words of sympathy, and simply ignores the whispers that he hears.
They say it was a car accident, but whose fault was it really? He was probably drunk, or speeding, or both. It’s a miracle that nobody else got hurt. Those Waynes can be so irresponsible! If Bruce had been a better role model...They’ve been in trouble before, haven’t they? Unexplained injuries all over the place. Strange lot, they are. Bruce was never father material anyway, does he really take care of those boys? It’s suspicious, the way he took them all in...why would he do that?
Maybe Bruce can ignore it, but his boys can’t.
Jason yells, screams, shouts. “What do you know about him? Nothing! Don’t you dare say anything against him, or against Bruce! Dick was the best brother, and Bruce is a better father than anyone could be to us! So don’t you say a fucking word!” His anger shatters the fake persona he should be hiding behind. He’s not Jason Todd-Wayne, the long-lost adopted song of Bruce Wayne. He’s just Jason, Jay, little Jaybird, grieving the loss of his brother.
Tim is different. He hides behind Tim Wayne instead, using it as a shield. “I’m very sorry, Jason is just upset, we all are, please excuse us...” He apologizes timidly on Jason’s behalf, leading his brother out of the room, ignoring Jason’s snarl that he’s just pretending. Jason is right, but Tim needs it. He needs to pretend, to hide, because now that Dick is gone, who is Tim Drake?
Damian simply crushes a glass in his hand, ignoring the slicing pain, throwing shards of glass dripping with blood at the feet of socialites and businessmen who recoil, the people who can’t understand. He spits on the shiny marble and leaves after Jason and Tim, and Bruce follows without a word.
Progress: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of major character death, one instance of swearing. Angst.
Word count: 818
Summary: The aftermath of Dick Grayson's death.
A/N: I haven't posted on here in forever. And I've stopped writing Merlin fanfiction and moved onto comics...but I might go back to Merlin eventually.
The Cave is full of overwhelming darkness. The place has been filled with the silence of death once before, and now it is again. It’s empty without Dick, without his life and energy and light. He was someone who understood and never forgot the joy of simply being alive, but now, that is gone. Shadows fill every corner that his laugh had lit up, and now the air is heavy with the knowledge that his life will never again ease the silence and the hurt of his family’s lives. The loss is as sharp as their minds, heavy as the armour on their chests, slick as the blood on their gauntlets and as clear as the tear track marks against the grime on their faces.
Can it be called home anymore, if Dick is gone? With Jason’s return, they had a few months of happiness. Dick was possibly the most joyful at Jason’s return, at his little brother’s rejoining their family, but now he is gone. Murdered. Shot in the head, protecting the innocent. One of the ways he would have been most happy to die, surpassed by only one other – protecting his family, innocent or not.
Bruce seems almost emotionless. Quiet and stoic as usual, but still heartbroken – if you look hard and long enough, you can tell. It’s in the way he moves, efficient but still somehow heavy. It’s in the way he can’t speak, only breathe heavily, trying to swallow around the dryness in his throat. It’s in the way he touches each of his remaining boys; a touch of Jason’s face, a stroke of Tim’s hair, a hand on Damian’s shoulder.
Jason is silent took, the sorrow visible in his eyes. He had come home at last, been happy. And then all that had been shattered, with just one bullet. Sometimes the others forget that Dick was Jason’s big brother first. Remembering Dick’s voice – hey there, Jaybird, Little Wing – helps Jason move, comforting Tim and Damian with his touch. He’s the oldest now, responsible for taking care of his little brothers.
Tim can’t say a word. He can’t move. He can’t do anything. He just sits there while his mind jars as it tries to process the loss of another loved one. His brother. Tears gather in his eyes as he realizes that the others he lost – Stephanie, Conner, Bart – came back, but Dick won’t. Just like Tim’s dad, Dick is gone forever, and he prays he never loses any of his family again.
Damian doesn’t utter a single word, but he manages to make the only noise in the Cave anyway. He rages around the place, kicking and hitting and making incomprehensible howls of rage and anguish and fear and despair, wishing cruelly that the innocent bystander that Dick died protecting was dead instead.
*
It’s different in public, when the Waynes are at a function and they have to socialize, be comforted by empty words from near-strangers, thank them in voices that aren’t even theirs. Here, they have to hide.
Bruce nods and smiles weakly at the words of sympathy, and simply ignores the whispers that he hears.
They say it was a car accident, but whose fault was it really? He was probably drunk, or speeding, or both. It’s a miracle that nobody else got hurt. Those Waynes can be so irresponsible! If Bruce had been a better role model...They’ve been in trouble before, haven’t they? Unexplained injuries all over the place. Strange lot, they are. Bruce was never father material anyway, does he really take care of those boys? It’s suspicious, the way he took them all in...why would he do that?
Maybe Bruce can ignore it, but his boys can’t.
Jason yells, screams, shouts. “What do you know about him? Nothing! Don’t you dare say anything against him, or against Bruce! Dick was the best brother, and Bruce is a better father than anyone could be to us! So don’t you say a fucking word!” His anger shatters the fake persona he should be hiding behind. He’s not Jason Todd-Wayne, the long-lost adopted song of Bruce Wayne. He’s just Jason, Jay, little Jaybird, grieving the loss of his brother.
Tim is different. He hides behind Tim Wayne instead, using it as a shield. “I’m very sorry, Jason is just upset, we all are, please excuse us...” He apologizes timidly on Jason’s behalf, leading his brother out of the room, ignoring Jason’s snarl that he’s just pretending. Jason is right, but Tim needs it. He needs to pretend, to hide, because now that Dick is gone, who is Tim Drake?
Damian simply crushes a glass in his hand, ignoring the slicing pain, throwing shards of glass dripping with blood at the feet of socialites and businessmen who recoil, the people who can’t understand. He spits on the shiny marble and leaves after Jason and Tim, and Bruce follows without a word.
