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schrijverr · 3 months

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Growing Pains [Dick's POV] 6

Chapter 6 out of 6

Dick knows who Barbara is under the mask, Barbara doesn't. This causes some strange interactions as their friendship develops.

In this chapter, Dick and Bruce let Barbara into the fold of their identities, something Dick is a little nervous about. Though he shouldn't worry, despite her teases, Barbara truly is his friend.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 6: Identity Confirmed

Dick is nervous as they drive in the Batmobile towards where they located Barbara to be. He is excited for patrol too, but it’s getting overshadowed for the moment.

He is glad that Bruce wasn’t mad when he told him about accidentally outing himself to Barbara and therefore also likely outing Bruce. However, just because Bruce is cool, doesn’t mean Barbara will be. He still remembers that she seemed to have something against him. What if she doesn’t like Robin anymore now that she knows it’s him under there?

So, he stays quiet as Bruce parks next to the building she’s on while they wait for her to come down. Which she does after a second, landing next to the Batmobile as she cocks her head and asks: “What? Not feeling up to walking tonight?”

Batman doesn’t reply and instead grunts: “Get in.”

It says a lot about how much she trusts them that she doesn’t even hesitate before jumping in, already leaning forwards as Bruce starts to drive to continue the conversation. “So, where are we going?”

“The Batcave.”

Dick can feel that Barbara looks at him, but he doesn’t look back. He wants to and his rational side tells him that he’s being silly, but he isn’t ready to face her yet. It seems safer to do that in the familiarity of the Cave. Of home.

Fortunately, Barbara takes his silence in stride and directs her next question at Bruce again. “That’s cool. Is there a reason we’re not patrolling?”

“We’ve decided to let you in on our identities,” Bruce explains.

She’s quiet for a moment, then she says in a smug voice: “Was that always the plan, or just because Dickie here spilled?”

His ears burn slightly of embarrassment, but he also immediately drops his resolution to wait until they’re in the Batcave. His honor is at stake! So, he yells: “Hey! I didn’t say anything incriminating.” Because he hadn’t.

“No, I just figured it out,” Barbara says happily. “I totally knew already too, by the way.”

He still feels a little guilty about spilling and he withstood a lot of anxiety over it, she doesn’t get to claim that she figured it out earlier. So, he hotly protests: “You didn’t. I saw your face, you only figured it out today.”

“I was already suspicious,” now Barbara is getting defensive too, this was not how Dick imagined this car ride. “I knew something was up with you, you’re not subtle at all.”

“I’m the most subtle,” Dick protests again at the new lie. He can’t have Bruce thinking he isn’t sneaky, he’s been very sneaky. “You didn’t notice me for weeks.”

“No, I let you observe me for weeks,” Barbara corrects condescendingly. “If you weren’t Robin, you’d be a creepy stalker or something.” Dick’s ears burn even more now, he never meant to be seen as a creepy stalker, he was trying to ensure the safety of him and Bruce, that’s totally different and makes it okay.

Then, she has the gall to turn to Bruce – who has been suspiciously quiet this whole time, the traitor – and say: “You should really invest in more sneaky training with this one.”

“Don’t listen to her, I’m plenty sneaky,” Dick yells, trying to shove her back into the backseat in an attempt to salvage the whole situation.

Despite the hostility, the atmosphere is far from it. He and Barbara have always bickered and when he focuses, he can hear the teasing tone as she tries to break the tension.

That doesn’t mean, he isn’t feeling incredibly betrayed when Bruce finally opens his mouth and says: “Hm, I don’t know, Dick. She might have a point,” leaving him guffawing in offense.

Barbara seems amused by his misery and joins in the betrayal by turning to Bruce and ignoring him to causally say: “I should get to sit in front next time. He’s shorter, that’s safer in the back.”

“You can’t have shotgun,” Dick complains, getting over his speechlessness. He turns to Bruce: “She can’t have shotgun! I always have shotgun.” He has to maintain this, he’s Bruce’s ward, that means he has to pick his side right? Barbara is already taller than him, he can’t loose this too.

But Bruce is not responding to him and a feeling of dread arises. He is so protective of Dick, which is sweet and makes him feel safe, but he also has his dignity. He’s already eleven!

However, before he can shake Bruce and demand a reply, they enter the Batcave and he is distracted again. Because he remembers fully taking it in for the first time, how cool it all was, he wants to show it off to his friend.

So, he excitedly follows after Barbara, who is looking around with the same awe and slides up to her as he smugly says: “Pretty cool, huh?” She remains quiet, just looking with wide eyes and Dick can’t help but laugh at her a little. He feels like she deserves it after bullying him in the car in front of Bruce.

At that, she snaps out of it, scowling at him as she pushes him. Though he knows it’s not mean spirited, he knows how hard she can push and that’s barely anything. She says: “You probably weren’t much better.”

“I was plenty better,” Dick tells her smugly, because he was and he can lord that over her now. “I didn’t even react.”

Bruce undermines him a little in his smugness by commenting: “You were too busy yelling at me to let you commit murder.”

Dick pouts at him. He’ll probably never let him live that down, even though he didn’t commit murder in the end anyway. Bruce gives him a gentle look, knowing it’s a sensitive topic and trying to make it easier to bear by making light of it. It’s nice that he tries.

He’s without the cowl now, but still in the suit. It’s Dick’s favorite Bruce, because it’s the most real one.

Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Barbara’s head snap towards him and she asks: “Who were you trying to murder? Are you still murderous?”

“Nah, murder is in the past,” Dick says, because he did decide on that. Still, that doesn’t mean that ever present anger doesn’t flare up again when thinks back on it, so his voice is strained when he adds: “He was going after Tony Zucco. I wanted in.”

An understanding look dawns on her face and Dick wants to crawl out of his own skin a little. He nearly backs away when she puts a hand on his shoulder, because he doesn’t want a hug right now, he might cry and he has a reputation to uphold. But Barbara is always surprising him, so she doesn’t hug him, but says: “If you ever change your mind, I’m here to help.”

Dick can’t help but be shocked for a little. She’s very serious about it. Then the ridiculousness of the situation hits him and he lets out a giggle and he grins: “Thanks, Babs, I’ll keep it in mind.”

“No killing,” Bruce interrupts them and he sees Barbara cringe a little.

He gathers that she doesn’t know that he isn’t actually grumpy, so he breaks the tension by stage-whispering: “It’s his rule.”

“Ahhh,” Barbara replies, relaxing and giving him an exaggerated wink. Dick can’t help but feel delighted that she’s his friend.

Especially when their shared shenanigans get Bruce to sigh, before he says: “Go change. Penguin is robbing Gotham Bank.”

“Change?” Barbara and Dick ask at the same time.

“Yes,” Bruce answers, gesturing to a set of display cases, “I’ve had Lucius make better costumes for you. More protection and safety precautions. Don’t worry, I kept your design.”

Dick hesitates for a moment, he’s attached to his current suit. It’s the one he wore with his parents, but Bruce’s promise that he kept the design makes him approach. Indeed, it’s the exact same suit.

He stands there for a second, before getting startled by Bruce, who whispers: “So you can maintain the original safely.”

Warmth spreads through him, because Bruce always seems to know how to make it all a feel okay again, no matter how heavy his chest gets. So, he excitedly changes into his new suit, carefully folding his old one.

When they leave the Batcave, Bruce stops Dick and says: “Batgirl rides shotgun.” Then to both of them, he goes: “No names in the field.”

“Why does she get to ride shotgun?” Dick complains, while Barbara quickly scrambles in, because she’s mean and doesn’t want him to have any fun. He should have rights to the shotgun.

Bruce doesn’t seem to care about his right though, just saying: “Bank robbery, remember, Robin?”

Dick sulks as he gets in and informs Barbara: “I liked it better when you weren’t riding with us in the Batmobile.”

She sticks her tongue out in return, leaving him to sulk as Bruce drives them towards the back robbery.

It’s nothing monumental, being out here with Barbara also knowing. It’s just a thing now. She knows.

However, it is big to Dick, because she’s his friend. She knows him wholly now and doesn’t look away. She doesn’t care that he isn’t born rich, she isn’t uncomfortably sympathetic about his parents and she doesn’t take his barbs seriously. She gets wanting to fight, she gets the rush of grappling through the city. She gets him. And he gets her.

They work together like a well-oiled machine that has been weeks in the making. Her and Dick are on the two assassin looking ladies duty. He’s the distraction and hitter from the front, while Batgirl flanks from the back.

Maybe he should work on his stealth a little more, but he has always liked being in the spotlights more. The light to their shadow, right?

When the fight is over and the villains restrained, they return to the Batcave – Bruce probably wants to write his report right away, because he has something up his ass about maintaining an accurate database of encounters – Dick doesn’t care, because he wins shotgun and Bruce doesn’t order him to the back. Honor restored!

When they get back, Alfred is waiting with cookies, greeting them in his composed manner as always: “Welcome back, sirs and miss. I have some tea and cookies.”

Dick loves Alfred’s cookies and despite having shared them with Barbara before, he’s excited to do so again, now finally able to tell her who made them. So, he cheers and drags her along, saying: “Alfred makes the best cookies.”

They’re both happily stuffing their faces, thanking him for the cookies. Alfred smiles at Barbara, then replies: “You’re welcome, Miss Barbara. I do want to officially welcome you to the team. And to thank you for looking after Master Bruce and Master Dick.”

Bruce is pretending he doesn’t hear, but Dick just feels the rush of embarrassment. He already does enough stupid shit where Barbara can see, he wants to look somewhat cool in front of her. Though, he probably doesn’t help his case by whining: “Alfreeed, don’t say that. If ever, I was looking out for her.”

Alfred just raises a pointed eyebrow at Dick and one look at Barbara tells him that he’s going to be screwed for forever. Especially when she grins at Dick and says: “I don’t know, without me there, anyone could have snuck up on you.”

“That was one time!” Dick exclaims, the blush not leaving, much to his dismay.

Barbara is enjoying this moment and he knows it, she is cackling loudly as she ruffles his hair. His hair! He tries to duck away, but can’t escape her as she teases: “Keep telling yourself that, Dickie.”

“Dickie is absolutely not going to stick,” Dick warns her, because it makes him sound like he’s five and he’s already grown, thank you very much. To show that, he sets in a counter attack in the form of tickles, which has her dancing away.

Their little game turns into actual sparring when Bruce starts to call out tips to both parties, until they are both on the ground, panting.

Bruce appears in their sight, holding out a hand to both of them as he pulls them to their feet. He smiles: “Could use some work, but you’re getting good.” Then he holds out a piece of paper to Barbara and explains: “These are some exercises you can do at home. We’ll train every weekend here. These are rotating meeting points for pick up on patrol, memorize them, then burn the paper.”

Dick is proud of Bruce for letting Barbara in like this and he’s proud of Barbara for seeing past his whole ‘I am the night’-shtick, because she salutes: “Aye, aye, sir.”

Bruce seems to be amused as he says: “I’ll drop you off near home. The Commissioner is off work soon,” he then adds. “Dick, time for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Dick immediately protests. He can’t have her think he has a bedtime, he’s Robin. Though his effort is undermined by a yawn and knowing Bruce or Alfred will say something otherwise, he amends: “Okay, maybe a little tired. Bye, Babs, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Dick.”

Then they’re both quiet for a second, he isn’t sure whether they’re just going to wave, shake hands or hug. He remembers how on the roof she hugged him, how it was nice to have that. He’s always been a touchy person. In the circus he was surrounded by people who’d hug him. Bruce is getting better at it, but it can’t hurt to have more people to hug. So, he makes an executive decision and hugs her, glad when she hugs back.

He doesn’t want to make it weird, so he quickly steps back, before bounding up the stairs backwards as he waves and calls out: “I’m calling shotgun for next time!”

“You can’t do that,” Barbara yells back, but Dick pretends he doesn’t hear.

The next day, he’s a little nervous, because what if it doesn’t translate to outside their sidekick gig? What if she shuns him at school again?

But he needn’t have worried, because the moment he sets foot into Mr. Stevenson’s class, she is there, giving him a grin and waving at him to come over.

Some of the class is giving them weird looks, but that’s something else to worry about later. He’s sure that between the two of them, they can come up with a sufficient explanation as to why they’re suddenly friendly, when they seemed enemies not so long ago.

Dick doesn’t want to go to school. Not really. It has always seemed more pointless than focusing on training, but with his friend here, the world isn’t just a place of anger and training. It’s nice to have someone to hang out with here too, it makes school just a little bit better.

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