Aromantic_Satan is pandering to my love of reverse batfam with this one

MemeLord257 is our next shout out! Check out their factbook, I've already got some ideas for one-shots based off of it and show them some love!

Strap in pals because I really took this request and just ran with it

WARNING: there will be talk of drugs and underage smoking. If you don't fuck with that no problem because there'll be a different story out tomorrow

Let's go

They knew taking in Dick wouldn't be a walk in the park. For one, he was thirteen so his emotions would be all over the place. Not only that but teenagers were more likely to hide things that really shouldn't be hidden. They also had a nasty habit of resisting new changes. That led to the next problem. Change. Dick hadn't come from an orphanage or from the streets. He'd spent five years in a juvenile detention center for what? He dared to be an orphan when the orphanages were full? God knows how horrible things were in there for him. He didn't have any crime under his belt when he was nine and, from they'd heard from prison guards, he was the victim of trouble rather than its conductor. Yet even with these glaring problems, they still didn't think it would be this hard. Bruce wished for the days when Damian was a kid. Those were much easier than now. It didn't start off particularly difficult. Dick was anti-social but they just assumed that was because he hadn't had his own space in years. He was just enjoying his new room, they thought. They had a small problem with getting him to eat and Alfred had resulted in leaving a tray at the foot of his door with food on it just so the teen ate something. Eventually, he ventured out more and Bruce brought up the subject of school. That sent them back three weeks. When they built up trust again, the option was offered and this time he took it. They actually thought he was making progress. Maybe staying with them had given him a new lease of life. Oh, how wrong they were. They should've realized sooner. Prison life was hard to shake when you'd grown up with it and prison life was never just confined to prisons. Their massive oversight hit them one night when they were out on patrol.

"Any progress with Grayson?" Nightwing inquired. He'd been away on a mission for a week or so, one that called for radio silence, so he was admittedly anxious to hear any news about the new addition to the family. Once they had him settled him, he'd eventually find out about the hero thing then he'd want in. Considering his father's luck with himself and his brothers, Nightwing wanted to try his hand at mentoring. He'd like to share his sword-fighting skills with someone who wouldn't just use it to impress girls. "He's going to school now. The teachers say he's been doing well, even if he does have a bad habit of turning up tardy to lessons. Sometimes half an hour late," Batman replied. That didn't sit well with anyone but the older tried to brush it off. He was still a kid trying to get used to a completely different system. He most likely let his newfound freedom get the best of him and he didn't even notice the time. It would calm down in a week, he was sure of it. "Can he leave school grounds during that time? He'll be the next picking for kidnappers," Red Hood pointed out. They always went after the youngest and Robin had to feel a little more at ease now that he wasn't the youngest. 

"I'm sure he can handle himself," he replied.

"He's been restless all this week," Red Hood pitched in, changing the topic but keeping it on the same person. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you hear him walking about at night? He gets up and walks around for a while then goes back to bed but a few hours later he's back up."

"Could he be sleepwalking?" Nightwing suggested.

"Could he be sneaking out," Robin stated rather than offered. They looked at him in confusion and followed his eye line. It went to the alley they were standing above and right there...no. He couldn't be. "That's Dick," he said. They were too shocked to even move. What was he doing on the roughest side of Gotham at three in the morning? 

"Should we do something?" Red Hood asked. This wasn't something they were trained for. Why on earth would he be out? What was the point? A midnight stroll through stabbing central? 

"I'll follow him, you go cover the rest of the city. We can't afford all our resources on whatever he's doing," Batman announced. The boys reluctantly nodded and ran away to cover the rest of Gotham.

Dick strolled down the alley with no cares in the world. It was as though he knew this place. He never once double checked where he was going. He never once paused. He just kept going. As Batman got a better look at him, he saw that he was wearing a backpack. It was the one he bought him for school. He'd insisted it was far too big but Dick had begged for it. He just thought he was getting overly prepared for school. The bag looked like it didn't have little weight to it so he could rule out a late-night study session with a friend from school. The teen pulled out a phone from his pocket before finding a spot in the shadowy cover of the alley. Batman never gave him a phone. There was no point in him having one. Where did he even get a phone? He didn't leave the house except for going and coming back from school. Unless he got it in those times he was missing. But with what money? He'd avoided giving the teen pocket money since it was too close to the commissary system in prison and the last thing he wanted to do was recreate anything from prison. "Hey Bobby, yeah I'm fine. Nope, not got caught yet. Speaking of, fancy giving me another order? Got customers lining up and you owe me payment from last week," Dick said on the phone. There was a mischievous look about him that Batman sure didn't like. He laughed at the caller. "What can I say? I just need the destress ya know. You're the only one I know who gets the good cigs." Batman fought every bone in his body that was screaming at him to go down there and swooping him up. Why was he doing this? He got an all-new start! He was never a troublemaker in prison and now he was sneaking off to get something from an undoubtedly shifty character for cigarettes? "Aww, that'd be great. Not had that in a while. How far away are ya?" There was a pause. "May as well keep you on the horn. How're things inside? Need me to do another visit to Mini Arkham?" He laughed again. How he could make such light conversation with this mystery person in the worst part of Gotham was something Batman didn't want to know. "Oh, the Waynes? Pfft yeah right. I ain't one of them. They'll have me out soon enough. All of them do. Least I could get you n Lucy some nice stuff on my way out hey?" Batman bit his lip as his chest tightened painfully for the teen. He'd heard that a few families had tried to deal with him but he'd always go back in within a month or so. He guessed that was how he gained this contact in the first place. "Who cares if I go back in? You can always set up another one in that school downtown. Heard the sales there are getting better and better."

The conversation continued until finally, Bobby showed up. He was a buff older man but not too much older than Nightwing. Twenty-eight tops. He wore gold jewelry wherever he could fit it and carried a duffle bag. "Let's see what you got," he ordered. His voice was thick with a Slovakian accent but that didn't seem to intimidate Dick. He shrugged off the backpack and pulled out a stack of notes. "Good job. You just about my best employee," he added as he pocketed the cash. He reached into his other pocket and tossed a pack of Camels over to Dick. The teen caught them with a grin, already pulling out a lighter and setting one alight. He took a long drag and sighed contently. "You spoil me, sir, you really do. I need six bags of Mary and one of em is experimenting with Jokers so I'll need two tabs of that," Dick explained as he handed over his backpack. Jokers were a strain of Joker Venom Batman had been tracking down. They were used more like a cheap high than a debilitating gas nowadays and he just found himself a supplier. It's just a shame Dick was caught up with it all too. He watched with balled fists as the man just tossed the bag over without a second thought. Dick was barely a teenager. If he was caught with any of that on him then he'd get five years minimum. This time for a crime. "Might try some of this stuff sometime when this loses its kick," Dick commented passingly. Bobby chuckled lowly. "I know the right guy to buy it from too."

"Consider a bag your salary if you sell those this week." He clicked his tongue, drawing another inhale of smoke from the cigarette before blowing it out. 

"If you're treating your hoes like this, I might just have a career change when this gets old." He got another chuckle out of Bobby before shouldering his backpack. "Wish me luck."

The exchange was over and Dick was nonchalantly walking away with a backpack full of drugs, a cigarette hanging out the side of his mouth. Batman couldn't bear to watch anymore and dropped down in front of him. "Huh, wondering when you'd show up Batsy. Can I help ya?" Dick asked, his tone dripping with confidence.

"I gave you a chance and you just had to ruin it for herself didn't you?" Batman replied. His voice was low and seemed to actually scare the younger. He didn't even notice through his frustration. "What?"

"I offered you a better life Dick and what? You just decided that dealing was better than just staying at home." The teen took a step back, his cigarette falling from his mouth as his expression moved from fear to shock. 

"How do you know my name?" Batman matched the step he took back with a step forward.

"Do you know what you're doing to people? That person who tries Jokers will become addicted. Forty out of the forty-five cases I've seen ended with them dying. Do you want people to die Dick?"

"You stay the fuck away from me you creep! You don't know me! You don't know the shit I've gone through."

"What would your parents think had they known that their death didn't even make you value human life?" All the colour drained from the boy's face. That's all he was. He wasn't a teenager. He'd never evolved to that state of mentality. He didn't get a chance to grow up and reach that maturity. In his head, he was just the same kid that just lost his parents who didn't know what he was doing, what was going to happen and what he was supposed to do. "Stop it," he said. It was barely above a whisper. His voice trembled in fear of what the Dark Knight knew. He didn't know who was behind the mask. It was just another figure of authority he had no right to know. Another person he was forced to listen to even though he didn't understand anything that was going on. "You know, life sucks sometimes. It really does but that is no reason to do this! To sell drugs to kids who don't know any better! Who gave you that right?" Dick took another step back but his legs were wobbling so harshly that he ended up just crashing to the ground. He scrambled backward with his glossy wide eyes fixed on Batman's white lenses. "Answer me Richard, who gave you that right?"

"The other boys!" the terrified kid shouted back. His chest moved up and down at an uneven pace whilst his fingers clawed at the dirt ground. Batman paused. 

"What?"

"The other boys! In prison! They said this is how I was supposed to do things!" he yelled.  Suddenly the anger of finding all of this out just dissipated but it came too late. A blind person could tell how truly scared he was of the vigilante. "Just don't hurt me."

"I didn't want- Dick I never meant-" The teen shakily jumped to his feet and threw the backpack at him. 

"Th-there, you've got my stock. Just stay the hell away from me." He then ran off, legging it back to the manor. Batman opened his mouth to call after him but he couldn't bring himself to scare the kid any further. He doubted as Bruce he could do much better. He put his fingers up to the comm unit and pressed it lightly. "Go home and comfort Dick. I've just given him the fright of his life but," he paused and looked down at the backpack he'd so easily handed over, "I think he learned his lesson."

Stop shaking, Dick thought to himself as he climbed up the drainpipe. Going up and down it was a routine he did as though it was second nature but he was still messed up about what happened with Batman. He knew his name. Bobby never mentioned his name. He didn't even know his real name. Only the kids at school he was selling to. Shit, they ratted him out. They were probably informants for the vigilante. He didn't even want to think about what would've happened had he not handed the bag over. Batman didn't exactly go easy on dealers. He shuddered at the thought. Finally, he slipped back into his room and was in the safety of Wayne Manor. Well, that was until Batman found him again. Maybe he'd tell Bruce and he'd get thrown out. He couldn't go back to prison now! Bobby was one of the most influential dealers with juveniles. He didn't work with adults other than the prostitutes he hired. If he found out how easily he gave up his stock, he'd go ballistic. He'd go back in. His hand subconsciously drifted to his chest. He'd been given three broken ribs a few years back for telling a guard about a fight he saw. Dick had a bad scar from the surgery to fix it. The prison wasn't known for its great doctors. He paced his room as his thoughts jumped from one terrifying thought to another. Everything was so much. He moved from one family to another and he'd always mess it up. This was the only time he actually took the advice from the kids inside and it actually went his way. Staying in his room made them overlook his behaviour and not bond with him which meant they had no strong feeling towards him that would eventually lead to him getting put back inside. He took up dealing because it was the best way to get cigarettes and friends. They weren't great friends but they made him laugh. He hardly ever laughed. But now he was regretting the whole not bonding thing. They wouldn't have a strong feeling towards him. Yeah, that meant it wouldn't be strongly negative but that meant it wouldn't be strongly positive either. Maybe if he just ran away now? He could just get up and go. Bobby didn't have to know how he lost his stock, he could just say Batman got the better of him. The guy could take down Joker so it wouldn't be too surprising that he took down a short lanky teenager. Then he'd ask for new stock and go to a different part of Gotham. Perhaps out of Gotham all together? Batman wouldn't get in his way then.

Speaking of Batman, Dick's mind trailed back to what he'd said in the alley. He kept using I. He knew his real name. Why would he use I? Batman wasn't Bruce Wayne. He didn't foster him to get him out of that prison, he wasn't keeping him in a good school or giving him a place to stay. Dick's pacing stopped suddenly. That's how he knew. He knew about where Dick had been, his name, his parents, his new life when media hadn't even picked up on the story yet. Dick sat down at the window sill and took a deep breath. He fished into his pocket and pulled out the pack of Camels and a lighter. The smell of smoke wouldn't help his situation but he needed it. Okay, so Batman was Bruce. He was definitely getting kicked out. If Bruce was Batman then he didn't doubt his kids were Batman's entourage. Someone up there really didn't like him and it was starting to piss him off. It was just one thing after another wasn't it? The circus starts to lose money, his parents die, he gets put in prison, he gets bullied, he gets beat up, he gets thrown around like some kind of passion project that gets tossed away when he starts to open up, he gets fostered by the worst person considering what he was doing in the night. He sighed and looked down at his feet. What was the point in running? How far would that really go before some cop who gave a shit decided to look at the missing list and managed to spot him? How long before he'd be dragged into prison and punished for being such a pussy? They'd have him in there. Maybe he could have himself first.

Before that thought got any further, there was a knock on the door. Dick didn't bother to snuff out his escape since that was the least bad thing he'd done these past few months. It wasn't good but hey, it wasn't as bad as dealing one of the deadliest designer drugs to teenagers who just wanted an escape too. He remained silent, hoping whoever was outside just went away. Another knock. "Dick? You in there?" Tim asked. He hated himself for flinching at the voice. He wouldn't hurt him as bad as the boys inside. Too much of a spotlight on him to go around beating up kids. "We know what's going on," Damian stated. The younger curled up in on himself and took another puff like it was just going to magically fix the mess he'd gotten himself into. Damian could kill him. Oh God, he really was going to die. The window was suddenly looking very appealing. "We're not going to hurt you. From a street rat to prison kid, that's a promise," Jason offered. That last bit really caught the young orphan's attention. Street rat. He'd forgotten that that's how Jason started out. There might be some sympathy there. Maybe he did the same thing. Dick slowly walked over to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. "You promise?" he inquired, his voice shaking like in the alleyway. It wouldn't be as easy of an escape if they decided otherwise. He kept an escape route in mind just in case. "Promise."

The door opened and the brothers shuffled inside as they rehearsed what they were going to say inside their heads. It wasn't every day that your foster sibling that spent the formative years of his childhood in prison has been caught selling drugs and smoking. Dick closed the door after them then traveled back to the window sill to smoke. It was keeping him somewhat relaxed though his heart pounding against his chest would tell you differently. "Bruce is kicking me out, isn't he? I can have my things packed up in ten. Half of it I didn't unpack in the first place," he spoke, desperately trying to hide how frightened he was. He already made a show of himself in front of Batman - well Bruce - so there wasn't much point yet he still insisted on acting nonchalant. Perhaps he could placebo himself into thinking things would be okay no matter what. That was dumb to think but it wouldn't hurt to hope for. "Put that thing out, it's a terrible habit," Damian ordered, ignoring his previous sentence.

"Do you know how much a pack is nowadays? This is worth like two dollars," he replied. Acting mouthy wouldn't help his case but it made him feel better. His wit made prison seem like less of a Hellscape than it was. Granted, it made him victim to short-tempered teenagers with a taste for violence. "I'll pay you back for it," the older offered. Dick gave him an unsure look but did what he asked, flicking the butt of it out the window. Why was he being nice? "Thank you. You can put the notion of him kicking you out to bed too. Father isn't like that." He tutted at the older skeptically and stared out the window. 

"Haven't heard that one before," he remarked sarcastically. "It's all "you can tell us anything kiddo" and "we'll never turn our back on you" until whoopsie daisy you said too much and back you go so they can get an easier kid and claim they really tried to change you but you were just too much to handle." His body tensed up as his own comment sent his mind reeling. All those nice couples coming to him then turning on him the moment he opened up. They only wanted the gratification of being the couple with the messed up kid they fixed into the model child. News flash, he wasn't ever going to be the model child. Not in their books. "If Bruce was like that, I wouldn't be here," Jason interjected. He cautiously moved closer to Dick and perched himself on the window sill when he saw no clear aversion to the action. He held his hand out, much to the teenager's confusion. "The cigs. You're best off without them," he explained. Dick huffed and surrendered them over, knowing full well there were still three cigarettes left in his bedside draw. "Now time for you to answer our questions. No dodges allowed. How long have you been selling for?"

"Started a week after I came here." He already didn't like this. It was an interrogation and he couldn't even plead the fifth or have a lawyer present to advise him on what to do. 

"Urgh, I can't believe I thought you were sleepwalking all this time. I kept hearing you get up at all hours and didn't even think to check," Tim announced in exasperation. He didn't want to invade but he really should've. Maybe this mess wouldn't be as bad as it was if he had. 

"You weren't completely wrong," Dick offered. He grabbed the teen's attention and was given a look to carry on so he did. Even if his twisting stomach from the nerves was begging him not to. Maybe if he told the truth about everything, they'd like him better. They let this slide. They said Bruce wasn't going to kick him out but that didn't mean Bruce wasn't going to the cops about what he'd done. "I get weekly amounts of stock so I only sneak out once a week. The rest of the time you heard me walking about that was just what I was doing."

"Why?"

"God do you wanna know my life story or something?" he snapped.

"Dick, we can't help you if you don't tell us what's going on in that head of yours. Believe it or not, we actually give a shit about you," Jason told him.

For a moment the room went quiet. Dick seemed so shocked that they cared for him he didn't know what to say next. "Grayson?" The older's voice snapped him out of his shaken state and he came crashing back to reality. 

"You care?" he asked, still dumbfounded. They nodded, all but Damian giving him a comforting smile. 

"Of course we do, you're part of our family now," Tim assured him. He walked over to the other side of the teen and took his hand to further prove they cared. 

"Especially since Bruce popping off kinda spilled the beans on who we are," Jason muttered. Their words were intended to be kind but Dick couldn't help but find their claims hollow. 

"You're doing this on purpose. You're acting all nice to me then you're going to turn on me. All the boys played it so you can't fool me," he protested. There was something so sad about hearing him argue against their reassurance. Whoever tormented him so much that he'd go as far to outright refuse their affection was really messed up. "We're telling the truth."

"I bet you are. You probably lied about Bruce kicking me out too. God, I'm going back in the clink." He began to pace to get out some of the anxiety but his breath still got shorter. His mind rushed back to all those times someone decided he'd be their punching bag. He'd get tugged somewhere, not even seeing who it was. The next thing he knew there was a fist colliding with his face. Maybe that was the Wayne's plot. They were going to bring his guard down and then get him. He was good not to bond with them. He was. Everyone he bonded with left. The boys inside had a good point. No bonds meant he was fine. He was fine. He couldn't breathe. Someone was kicking at his stomach. Someone was knocking the air from him. Everything was in a tailspin. "Grayson, breathe," Damian ordered. Dick now became aware that his breathing was all sorts of wack. "Copy me. In...then out." He nodded and watched his mouth intently, copying the breathing exactly. "We're not playing tricks, we're not lying. You are safe here."

"I'm sorry," Dick replied. "I just-I don't get it."

"Get what?" Jason asked.

"Everything. The circus was completely different from prison and prison is so different than being here. Nothing's the same and I don't understand." His shoulders dropped defeatedly. He'd only known the circus and prison. The circus was so free and the prison was so constraining. He supposed that being in Wayne Manor was the happy medium between them but he didn't feel happy. Dick laughed at himself. Since when did he feel happy. "The League of Assassins left me ill-trained in social interactions," Damian stated.

"This room is probably the size of the apartment I grew up in," Tim added.

"I never had someone look after me the way Bruce did," Jason offered. "Point is, none of us was prepared for living here. You know what we did to settle in better?" Dick shook his head. "We asked for help. We told someone how we felt. It's the only way you can feel better." The younger hummed. He supposed he better start talking.

Should i do a follow up to this??