Work Text:
Dick is helping Jason with a case when it happens.
He’s a little surprised his brother asked him for help, if he’s honest. While Jason has gotten more comfortable helping the Bats, he still prefers to keep them out of his own Red Hood business. So when Jason pulls him to the side one night after an Arkham breakout and asks for his assistance, he has to keep the shock from spreading across his face. If Jason thinks he’s judging him, he’ll close himself off again, and Dick doesn’t want to undo all their progress.
At least, he’s surprised until he learns it’s a child trafficking group.
It’s just the rumblings of one, one that’s trying to form, as if they think they can turn a profit stealing children right out from under Red Hood’s nose. It’s best to stop these types of groups before they can become too well established, but Jason needs help ensuring that none of the attempting members escape. Usually, that wouldn’t be too much of a problem, but when wrangling scared, kidnapped kids and unruly thugs, it’s good to have an extra pair of hands.
The bust goes rather well, and they end up capturing all the involved members with little hassle and overall bloodshed. Dick zipties the last few unconscious men as the notification to the police station goes out, and Jason goes to search the rest of the warehouse to see if they’ve hidden anyone away. Dick is content to catch his breath, keeping an eye on the thugs as he waits for the police to arrive, until Jason sticks his head around the corner. His helmet is off, but his domino mask is still on, and Dick frowns a little, curious at the costume change.
“Hey, boy wonder,” Jason calls, projecting his voice but trying to keep it quiet. “Get over here.”
Dick throws one last wary glance at the group of thugs, all still knocked out, and moves closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Found a kid,” Jason explains, still speaking softly. “But he’s terrified of me. I tried taking off my helmet and crouching down and all that shit, but…” He trails off, looking unsettled, as if he doesn’t want to say the next words that come out of his mouth. “I think I look too scary. I think I look too much like them.”
Dick can see the way that pains his little brother. Red Hood is well known in Crime Alley for his fierce protective streak for children, but a kid from outside Crime Alley might not know that. Even if they did, they might be too scared to process that it’s him.
“Oh, Little Wing,” Dick says softly with mournful understanding.
As Robin, they both had a lot of experience dealing with scared civilians. After all, it was usually Batman who went after the criminals and Robin who comforted the victims. Robin is a much less intimidating figure. Neither of them are the young children they once were, but Jason rivals Bruce in his stature, with broad shoulders and looming height. Dick, despite being older, has a gymnast's build and is shorter and more lithe than his brother.
“It’s fine.” Jason deflects. “Just see what you can do for the kid. I’ll keep an eye on these freaks until Gordon arrives.”
“Was there anyone else?”
“He was the only one I found. We must’ve gotten to them before they got too far, but I’ll have the police double-check behind me. He’s right over there,” Jason motions to a pile of crates stacked in the corner. “See if you can get him out of here, alright? He doesn’t need to deal with this nonsense anymore than he has already.”
“Alright. I’ll keep you updated.” Dick promises, and Jason stalks away.
Dick steels himself and gently makes his way over to the corner. He makes his footsteps loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that they sound like the stomping from the thug's heavy boots. Dick keeps his voice soft and reassuring as he speaks, spotting the young boy curled up in the corner, hiding in the shadows the boxes provide. He crouches down, trying to make himself appear unintimidating, keeping his posture loose and friendly.
“Hi there. I’m here to help you. Can you tell me your name?”
The boy glances over at him warily, but his eyes catch on the blue logo on his chest. He must recognize the symbol because between one second and the next he's launching himself at Dick.
“Nightwing,” The boy breathes in relief, sighing his name against Dick’s chest. Dick shifts his balance to suddenly account for the boy’s weight, little arms squeezing him tightly. Dick wraps his arm gently around him in return but doesn’t move yet.
“Are you okay?” Dick questions, and the boy just nods against his chest. “Did they do anything to you?”
“No,” the boy confirms again, and Dick lets out a breath of relief. “They just locked me in a room for a long time. I’m hungry.”
“We can certainly get you some food. Do you have a place to go?”
“Yeah, my mom has an apartment. We just moved there a few months ago. It’s on the third floor.”
“That’s great. Do you know what street it’s on?” Dick asks, and the boy nods again. “Good. Let’s get you home, then. I’m sure your mom is missing you.” Dick lifts a finger to activate his comms. “Hey, Hood. I got the kid, and I’m taking him home.” Jason chirps an affirmative in his ear, and Dick flicks the device back off again. “Alright, sweetheart, I’m going to pick you up, okay?” he informs gently, and the kid just clings on to him tighter. Dick takes this as an okay and stands, holding the child gently in his grasp.
“Wait!” the kid cries once they step out onto the street. “We have to get it!”
Dick looks down at the child in confusion. “Get what?”
“I dropped it. When they first took me away, I dropped it. We have to go back and get it.” The kid insists instead of answering his question.
Dick debates. He doesn’t know how long ago the kid was taken, and it’s very likely that whatever it is, it’s not there anymore. “We need to get you home.” Dick replies, “Back to your mom.”
“No!” The kid protested, trying to wiggle out of his arms. “I need to go get it.”
“Okay, okay.” Dick relents. It’s better that he go along with this, since it’s obviously a big deal to the kid. He’d prefer to get him back home safely as quickly as possible, but the kid isn’t being dissuaded, and he doesn’t need him trying to run off by himself. “We can go get it. Do you remember where it was?”
Dick follows the kid's instructions to a small alleyway a few streets over. He still doesn’t know what they’re looking for, but the kid must spot it, because he actually worms his way out of Dick’s arms this time and goes running towards it. Dick quickly gives chase, and a flickering streetlight reveals a teddy bear that the kid picks up off the ground.
“I found you!” The kid crows triumphantly and quickly hugs the bear to his chest, despite the accumulated grime. It’s only when the kid holds the bear out for him to see that Dick realizes the extent of what it is. “Look!” the kid insists. “My mom got him for me.”
The bear is decently large, about the size of the kid’s entire torso, and looks like it was made at that one store Dick always passes at the local mall. The bear has rich black fur and a patch of blue fur across its chest in a strikingly familiar symbol.
“She said he’d protect me, and she was right! See, he’s just like you.”
Dick can’t help the tears that well up in his eyes. He didn’t know that any company was making plushies with his likeness, but he’s suddenly very grateful for it.
“Your mom sounds like a pretty smart lady,” Dick says, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice and failing. The kid in front of him clinging to a Nightwing teddy bear like it was the only thing good in the world might be the sweetest, most touching, and most heart-wrenching thing Dick has ever experienced.
“She is. Did you know she’s a doctor? And doctors are very smart.”
“That’s right.” Dick agrees somewhat absentmindedly, trying to get himself under control. He can have a breakdown about this later; he needs to focus on getting this kid home. “How about we get you back to her?”
“Right, let’s go.” The kid complies, allowing Dick to pick him up again.
This time Dick follows the kid's instructions and ends up on the third floor of an apartment building on the other side of town. His knock on the door is answered by a harried-looking woman, who takes one look at the child in his arms and goes from looking upset to being overjoyed. The kid once again throws himself from Dick’s arms, who gladly lets him go to be scooped up by his mother.
“You were right, Mom!” The kid crows as his mom reassures herself by holding him tight and pressing kisses to his hair. “Nightwing protected me.”
The mother pulls back enough to glance between the dirty bear in her son's arms and where Dick stands somewhat awkwardly at the door, lingering just outside the bubble of light that streams out from inside the apartment. He goes to leave—there’s no reason to stick around now that he’s sure the kid is delivered safely—but the mom catches his arm.
“Thank you. I—there’s no way I can thank you enough.”
The kid squirms out of her arms, running deeper into the apartment, and Dick hears him greeted by another enthusiastic voice.
“Of course,” Dick reassures, trying to tamp down the emotions that have been threatening to overwhelm him since he first saw the bear in the alleyway. “That’s why we’re here.”
The mom takes one more long look at him before quickly pulling him into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his hair in the same way she did for her son. Dick stands there dumbly, somewhat in shock, flooded with emotions as he remembers when his mother would do something similar for him. He tries not to crumple into her arms, and when she pulls away, she gives him a knowing look, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.
“I’m glad I was right about that bear.” She says softly, like admitting a secret. “Now, get out of here,” she dismisses gently, a warm undertone to her voice. “I’m sure you’ve got people that love you waiting for you to report back.”
Dick nods, thinking of Jason waiting for his update and Bruce anxiously checking over his children each night and Barbara’s watching eyes. He thinks of Alfred’s tender hands as he cares for their wounds, of Tim’s careful plans to ensure everyone’s safety, and Damian’s protective anger. He thinks of Steph’s playful mischief, Cass’s silent support, and Duke’s guiding light. He thinks of the warmth of the manor, the comfort of his family, and the call of home.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I do.”