TW: OUTING

Dick ran out of the room with a hand clamped over his mouth, tears lining his eyes. His siblings chased after him in confusion and feared what the truth was. If only him, Alfred and Bruce knew of this mystery girl and no one else did then what happened to her? Why had they never heard of her before? "Dick? Who is Rachel?" Steph asked. The older shook his head upon hearing the name and found a seat before his legs gave out from underneath him. The room felt so tiny despite being big enough to fit all of them which required a lot of room if they didn't want a homicide. His chest was tight as his breathing picked up. They watched helplessly as he desperately tried to get a hold of himself before he got too far into the feeling of despair and panic. He was promised that the name would never come up again. That Rachel would remain buried and would never see the light of day again. It would never be uttered within these walls. Yet here he was years after the promise was made, having it being broken by the very person who promised it. He couldn't even be mad. His family needed an answer as to who Rachel was and he could see they wanted to know but he couldn't get the words out around his sharp inhales. It shouldn't affect him as much as it did. The name had long since lost any meaning and power it once held but hearing it being said so earnestly had struck him deep. Concern was laced through his sibling's expressions, having abandoned their mentor with Alfred in favour of finding the truth in one of the three people who knew who Rachel was. The first was Bruce, the second being Alfred. Why did Bruce have to do this to him?

A few nights prior, Bruce received one serious head injury and was sent into a coma that no one was sure how long would last. So they waited around the room, periodically being visited by doctors who would tell them the same thing whenever they asked for updates. They didn't know how long the coma would last and they didn't know how bad the after-effects would be. Everyone tried their best to visit at least once a day. Jason usually visited at 5 am, somehow finding a way to get in outside of visiting hours. Tim and Damian would always arrive an hour early to visiting times, spent that hour fighting and then calmed down when Dick arrived with Alfred although they did throw taunts at one another. Steph would arrive in the afternoon with Cass usually bearing doughnuts. That's when Jason would casually appear and Dick would go for coffee just in time for Duke to pop in. The system repeated itself until one afternoon where they were all together, there was a stir from the bed. A doctor was called immediately and the relief of the family was tangible when they saw their patriarch open his eyes for the first time in days. "Can you hear me Mr Wayne?" the doctor called. Bruce's eyes dragged from the ceiling over to the other man and nodded slowly, a confused expression appearing on his face. "Can you confirm verbally?"

"Yeah. I can hear you," he replied, his voice more gravelly than usual. It sounded like he'd been gargling glass. Dick swiftly fetched a bottle of water but waited patiently for the go-ahead. He didn't want to do anything wrong if there happened to be a need for emergency surgery. 

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm in a hospital," he supplied. 

"And what's the current year?"

"2005," he answered. Any relief previously felt disappeared, most noticeably from Alfred and Dick. The pair glanced at one another with an expression that could only be read as panic. They knew something specific but none of the siblings questioned it. Something to do with Robin probably happened that year that neither of them was really over. That tended to be the trend. 

"Alright, it appears you've received some memory loss. You came in with a severe head injury and you've been in a coma for five days." Bruce's eyebrows furrowed but he followed instructions carefully as doctors assessed if only his memory had been affected. They couldn't decide if it was fortunate or unfortunate that memory loss seemed to be the only issue. After all, he would only remember Alfred and Dick but maybe he'd remember the rest of them with time.

Tests were carried out and the family were told that everything was fine physically. Mentally they were dealing with 2005 Bruce and they were advised not to force anything. They were quiet for a while, none of them knew what to say to this version of their mentor. He hadn't met most of them so he was equally as awkward. "So, I have a lot of kids," he began, his tone uneven. Tentative. They supposed that was to be expected. He did make a point to work alone and now here they all were chilling in his hospital room. 

"You do indeed. Only that menace over there is biological though," Jason confirmed. There was a small look of relief that they couldn't help but find funny. He must've wondered just how many women called in for their token to the Wayne fortune. Damian threw a magazine at the older for the title of menace although he did sort of like it. Menace was cool. 

"Where's my daughter?" Bruce asked, his eyes scanning over the only women in the room. None of them missed the sharp inhale Dick took at the question. His panicked blue eyes darted to match the butler's who gave him an empathetic look. Maybe it was more than Robin trauma. A daughter had never been mentioned before. To their knowledge, Steph and Cass were the closest he had to daughter figures. Barbara was more of a niece than a daughter. Both Alfred and Dick knew of a daughter judging by their reactions to the question but they hadn't ever talked about a daughter. 

"Master Bruce, I suggest you get some rest," Alfred stepped in when Dick seemed to close up. He chewed on his nails and set his eyes on the clean shiny floors, clear signs something was up. 

"No, where's Rachel?" Dick paused his gnawing and the colour drained from his face at the utterance of the name. He slowly took a step back, eyeing the door. 

"Sir-"

"Where's my Rachel? She'd be in her twenties right now. She should be here." That's when Dick had to leave. His hand was clamped over his mouth to prevent any cries from tumbling past his lips as his eyes watered. That's what led us to a group of confused and concerned siblings encircling their eldest, waiting for answers.

"Is she dead?" Tim asked, getting a sharp look from Steph for bringing up such a subject. Death was something that was joked about but not when none of them knew if the person was deceased, least of all if they didn't even know them, to begin with. Besides, Jason had the monopoly of death jokes and even he wasn't taking the chance to make them. Dick put his head in his hands but didn't answer the question. "I never saw anything about a Rachel," the younger continued to theorize despite the very obvious signs he was getting to stop. "I know everything there is to know about Robin and Batman so she mustn't have been a hero. Well, a very good one at that considering she was never brought up."

"Tim," Cass called in hopes of stopping him. They knew it wouldn't stop now. Once Tim got a hold of a mystery, he wasn't going to let go until he knew for a fact what the truth was. It made him a great detective but really horrible at this moment. He wasn't one for stopping and so he continued despite the call. 

"Even if she was just a civilian, there'd be evidence. She'd be in photos. Come to think of it, there's nothing from when you first entered the Manor. Did she wrong you? Maybe she became a villain," he continued. He ignored Dick's increasing discomfort. Well, he would be ignoring it if he had noticed it in the first place but he was too deep into theorizing. "She had to have done something to make her name not be commonplace. There's no grave to go along with her though so maybe she's still alive." Dick's distress rose further. The hands once cradling his head were now twisted into his hair and even Damian's small show of comfort - a hand on the older's shoulder - was doing nothing to help.

"Drake, stop it," Damian snapped.

"Shh, I'm onto something here. She'd be in her twenties right now yet we've never met her. In 2005 she'd only be ten. If Jason never met her either then she had to have left before Dick did so when she was fifteen maybe?"

"Replacement, fucking stop," Jason ordered.

"C'mon, there's no way that she could've disappeared that easily. There has to be something we're missing here," Tim barrelled along. Unable to deal with yet another theory, Dick got to his feet and put his hand over his brother's mouth. He didn't apply any unnecessary pressure so the younger just gave him a confused look. It was then that they all got a good look at him since he'd put his head down. His face was red, his eyes filled with tears with some managing to break over the edge and he looked completely devastated. 

"For fucks sake Tim, I was Rachel."

With that, Dick took his hand away and sat back down. He tried to do away with the tears that were spilling over whilst they came to terms with the admission. Dick was Rachel. Dick was Bruce's daughter and Tim had just made him admit it. Guilt hit him like a semi-truck. "I'm so sorry," he said immediately. The acrobat sniffled and shrugged at the apology. He didn't know if he wanted to accept it or not. "I didn't mean to."

"I know," the older responded. He didn't want to see what they thought of the new information. He'd done so well keeping it a secret that telling them he was trans had never been an option. It wasn't something he'd ever wanted to do. There was no need. Yet here he was, sitting in a hospital waiting room, forced to come out thanks to his father's amnesia and his brother's theorising. If that wasn't Grayson luck, he didn't know what was. 

"So, you're trans?" Jason clarified as though it needed any clarification. It was clear what they were being presented with. His comment was taken as distaste for the discovery, at least on Dick's part. He nodded slowly.

"I get if you're not okay with it," he began but he couldn't finish the sentence. The thought of losing the family that he adored was something he couldn't bear. 

"Oh my God, Dickie, no," Jason pitched in with a tone that was unusually comforting. The acrobat glanced up at his younger brother, tears continuing to cascade down his cheeks. "Hey, none of us are going to see you differently after this. Jesus, did you think we were transphobic all this time?"

"No! No, no, I didn't- I just thought you'd see me different. When I told people before they started messing up my pronouns," he explained, wiping the tears from his face. He remembered how betrayed he felt about it even when those people apologised and corrected themselves. It wasn't that they made a mistake, it was that they saw him differently. "I was upset and freaked out one night and Bruce promised Rachel would never come up again so we just made her disappear. No one knew. I didn't meet other heroes until after I was Dick."

"Did no one notice that Robin was a girl and was now a boy?" Damian asked.

"I was nine when Robin began and nothing," he coughed awkwardly and gestured to his chest, "wasn't really clear even once I went through puberty. Acrobat genes I guess?"

"When did you come out?" Steph inquired.

"Just before my eleventh birthday. Told em I was in the wrong body and I asked to be called what my parents were gonna name me if I was a man. Richard. I see now the irony of shortening it to Dick," he answered, a small smile gracing his features. His family matched it. 

"That's amazing," Duke said through a light chuckle. 

"Oh, now it makes sense," Jason hummed to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm guessing you still inject testosterone?" The acrobat nodded slowly. "Well, I saw you do it one time before Joker killed me and I thought you were doing drugs."

"You thought I was doing drugs?" Dick replied with a laugh. 

"Hey, golden boys love doing drugs." Dick rolled his eyes and wiped away the last of his tears. This felt nice even if it had started out feeling wrong. He could see that his family didn't care about it all nor were they going to start using the wrong pronouns. They'd always known him as Dick Grayson and knowing he was once Rachel Grayson didn't do anything to change who was sitting in front of them now. If it did, it was in a positive way. 

"You're all definitely okay with it?" he asked, not quite believing that he was being accepted so easily.

"You're still Grayson to me," Damian confirmed, getting nods of agreement. He smiled at the younger who he'd arguably been the most worried about. They'd all experienced different ways of growing up before they all came together under the mentorship of Batman. There was no telling what views they were brought up with and which of those had carried over. He'd done his best to teach them to be open and accepting considering they had such a diverse family but some people couldn't subscribe to that. He was glad they did. 

"I appreciate it. A lot."

"You shouldn't appreciate decency. You should expect it," Cass pitched in. He could hear the sadness in her voice. Concern over the times in his life when he hadn't been accepted or knew he wouldn't be welcome. He wouldn't tell them about those times but they didn't have to be told to know. This was Dick Grayson, nothing could ever be seamless. 

"I should probably go back in huh?" he said after a few beats of silence. They didn't reply but he wasn't expecting them to. He let out a long sigh and stood up, brushing out his hair with his fingers since his pulling had left it messy. "It's fine. He'll remember eventually. He was fine with me being trans once, he'll be fine with me being trans again. Right? Right."

"It'll be okay," Duke confirmed. 

"If not, we'll put him back in the coma," Jason offered, getting a light cackle out of the acrobat. 

"You will not."

When Dick entered the room, Bruce and Alfred snap their heads toward him. There's a sense of knowing in the room as Bruce rights his posture and pats the side of the bed closest to him. No words are exchanged at first as the acrobat sits beside his mentor, his shoulders tense and his eyes wandering. They never settled on the older until two hands cupped his cheeks. "Look at you," Bruce said with clear fondness. His eyes dart along his ward's face as a smile sets on his lips. "My little acrobat is all grown up."

"Do...do you mind?" he asked softly. It was weird seeing this Bruce after having witnessed over years the Bruce that had grown bitter and cold. The one currently had been through so much trauma that such a tender fatherly act felt so out of reach. Yet, here was his Bruce, a billionaire playboy in his mid-twenties with just an acrobat and a butler by his side. 

"Why would I mind?" Bruce replied. "Did I mind before?"

"No, but head injuries change people sometimes."

"They won't ever make me stop seeing you as my kid because of who you became." Dick laughed wetly and hugged his father, trying his best to hold back tears. "You're taller than I thought you'd be."

"Eh, you're just sitting down. Trust me, if Tim didn't stunt his growth he'd be the shortest guy in the family," Steph taunted.

"Damian is right there," Tim complained.

"He's not done cooking. He'll be 6ft." Bruce chuckled to himself as the family devolved into taunts and insults, all thrown with a special tone used only by siblings. 

"Are they always like this?" he asked Dick.

"Most of the time," the younger answered with a smile. He pulled away and quickly made sure any tears that totally didn't fall were no longer present. "Isn't it great?"