I've never been a natural all I do is try, try, try

by persephone_child

Summary:

There are three things the Justice League is absolutely certain about Batman:
1. He’s got trust issues the size of Gotham.
2. He probably has, like, two kids. Max three.
3. He definitely doesn’t do softness.

Until Nightwing gets dosed mid-battle with a new truth serum, and starts calling Batman Dad in front of everyone like it’s common knowledge.

(Or: Lex Luthor rallies a villain team-up, the League calls in the Titans, and a delirious Dick Grayson shatters the illusion Bruce has spent years crafting)

Chapter 1: I'm still on that tightrope

Night had fallen heavy on the eastern seaboard, but STAR Labs’ Atlantic Research Outpost burned like a beacon against the darkness. From orbit, the fire looked small. On the ground, it was chaos.

“Report,” Batman said, voice clipped through the comm.

“Lex Luthor,” Superman responded grimly, “and he didn’t come alone.”

CCTV footage showed Cheetah tearing through the outer guards with inhuman speed, Captain Cold freezing containment units mid-evacuation, and Black Manta flooding the lower floors from the bay. It wasn’t world-ending, not yet, but it was coordinated. Smart. Lex’s kind of smart. That made it dangerous.

“They’re not here to destroy it,” Cyborg said, projecting schematics in the Hall’s briefing room. “They're after something. This whole base is researching alien tech recovered from the Mars Terraforming Initiative.”

“Lex must think there's something he can weaponize,” Diana said.

“Or sell,” Green Arrow muttered.

They didn’t have time to wait. Reinforcements were called. Not just League-level, but trusted teams with tactical experience. That’s how the Titans arrived, flying in on a stealth Quinjet with Nightwing and Starfire at the lead.

Starfire descended in golden flare, radiant and imposing. Raven materialized like a wraith beside her. Beast Boy shifted mid-air from an eagle before landing. And at the front, with easy grace and a smirk that didn’t belong on a battlefield, came Nightwing.

He flipped off the ramp, landed lightly on the rubble, and strode forward like it was just another Tuesday.

Blue and black armor hugged his frame, gleaming faintly beneath the gray sky. His escrima sticks were sheathed across his back, but confidence was his real weapon. Even the League could sense it, he was built for command.

“Evening,” Nightwing said, flashing a grin. “Heard you were throwing a crisis party.”

Flash blinked. “Are we pretending that entrance wasn’t cool?”

“I’m always cool,” Nightwing replied, winking.

Clark chuckled under his breath. Diana watched him carefully. There was something familiar in the way he moved, not just the acrobatics, but the way he read the terrain before anyone else, the way he looked through the battlefield instead of at it.

From the moment Nightwing stepped out of the jet, Batman tensed.

Not that anyone noticed, except once again,  Diana, who watched the subtle shift in his shoulders with narrowed eyes. She didn’t comment. But she stored it away.

“Titans reporting in,” Nightwing said, slipping into stride beside Batman without hesitation.

“Good,” Batman answered. “You’ll take the west flank with Starfire. Prioritize hostage extraction, but watch for Lex, he's setting something up.”

There was no saluting, no official command transfer, no hesitation. Just trust. It was weird.

Most of the League didn’t say it out loud, but they saw it.

It was strange enough that Batman trusted someone. Stranger still that he gave strategy orders instead of issuing sharp demands. Green Lantern leaned toward Flash, murmuring: “I thought Bats didn’t do… teamwork.”

Flash shrugged. “A few weeks ago, we thought he didn’t do family .”

No one connected the dots yet. But something buzzed in the background like a song half-remembered.

 

The battle hit fast and surgical.

Lex’s team had barricaded the subterranean floors and powered up something in the alien wing, energy readings were climbing fast. The League split: Superman and Wonder Woman through the roof, Flash and Lantern through the eastern tunnels. Batman disappeared in a glide.

Nightwing took the Titans through the ventilation shafts, entering above the rogue blockade. His escrima sticks hummed blue with charge, boots whisper-silent against the steel.

He was grace and violence, distraction and anchor. Starfire barreled through plasma defenses. Raven blinked behind Captain Cold. Beast Boy turned into a rhino mid-air. Titans moved as one.

But what struck Green Arrow, watching from a distance, was how easily Nightwing pivoted when Batman redirected him mid-fight. No explanation, just a nod, and Nightwing was rerouting power feeds before anyone else caught up.

Even Green Lantern, dodging laser blasts, noticed it. “Spooky, since when do you do battlefield micromanagement?”

Batman didn’t answer. But his eyes followed Nightwing’s every move.

It was in the northern chamber that things turned.

Lex’s team was losing ground. Manta was down. Cheetah had vanished through the floor. Cold’s weapon had been ripped apart by Wonder Woman herself.

Lex was furious, and desperate.

He activated a failsafe.

A violet canister hissed as it ruptured into a fine mist, glowing faintly. Batman’s lenses zoomed in. “Toxin release. Don’t breathe it in…”

Too late.

Nightwing had just taken down the final containment droid. He turned, caught sight of the canister, and slammed his escrima stick into it to stop the spread.

A burst of gas exploded in his face.

“Nightwing!” Starfire screamed.

He staggered, falling to one knee. His eyes were glassy, expression flickering like a bad signal. His breathing was too fast. Too shallow.

Batman moved instantly, crossing half the room in seconds, but didn’t touch him.

From the far end of the corridor, Superman floated down, cape barely stirring.

“Batman,” he said, glancing at the downed canister, “What is that? What’s in it?”

“I don’t know,” Batman said tightly. “Could be experimental. Lex has been stockpiling off-world materials.”

“Wait,” Diana cut in. “He’s reacting. Look at his vitals.”

Nightwing was swaying now, mouth parted in a breathless smile. “This place smells like cold metal and sweat,” he murmured. Then, softly, with a lopsided grin, “Hi, Kory. You look gorgeous.”

“Nightwing,” Starfire said, voice tight, but smiling faintly.

“Oh, right,” he said dreamily. “We’re in the middle of a fight. Gotta focus. Gotta look cool in front of,” He turned his head, blinked once at Batman, and softened. “Dad.”

Silence.

Utter, shattering silence.

“Wait,” Flash said. “Did he… Did he just say…?”

Nightwing blinked slowly, like the effort cost him everything. “Oh right… Secret,” he slurred. 

His knees buckled.

Batman caught him before he hit the ground, “Truth serum,” he concluded.

Diana lowered her sword. Superman stared. Green Lantern muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

And across the room, someone exhaled, “What the hell kind of truth serum was that?”

Chapter 2: I'm still trying everything to get you laughing at me

Summary:

The Justice League expected a team-up, not a family drama.

The Watchtower medbay was pristine.

Every surface gleamed under soft, clinical lighting; tools were arranged with surgical precision, and the air carried the crisp, scentless chill of strict sterility.

This was where world-ending injuries were triaged, alien biology was studied, and miracles were quietly stitched back together.

It was quiet.

For the most part.

“Okay,” Nightwing breathed, sprawled over the bed like it owed him rent, “so this isn’t just a truth serum.”

“I’m not a medic,” Flash whispered to Lantern, “but that doesn’t sound like a good opening line.”

“I thought you couldn’t lie,” Lantern whispered back.

“I can’t lie,” He said, eyes half-lidded. “But also I can’t shut up, which is new. And bad. Very bad. You ever have those dreams where you’re naked in public? That’s me right now. Except the dream is talking.”

He turned his head slightly and blinked up at Batman, who was standing, okay, looming , at his bedside. “Hi, Dad.”

Several heroes in the room flinched.

Batman didn’t. Not visibly. But the shift was there, so subtle only Diana caught it. She arched one brow but stayed silent.

“So… Want to explain that?” Superman said slowly.

“He’s delirious,” Batman said flatly.

“No, I’m really not,” Nightwing replied cheerfully. “I mean, I was. For a bit. But now I’m just drugged and full of terrible, terrible choices. Also my mouth won’t shut up unless I focus really, really hard, but even that kind of hurts? I think it punishes lying and silence. Which is mean, honestly. And rude.”

He groaned and flopped onto his stomach like a particularly dramatic cat. “Who makes a serum that forces you to overshare and tell the truth? What kind of sadist was Lex hiring?”

Superman’s lips twitched.

Starfire hovered close to the bedside, golden hair singed at the ends from the fight, but eyes warm. “Are you in pain?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean only when I lie. Or try not to talk. But I shouldn’t be talking, because…” He looked up at her mournfully. “I am so grounded.”

That drew a very quiet sound from Batman. Not a word. Not even a grunt. Just a shift in the air, a click of his jaw tightening. Kory, bless her, held back her laugh with a hand to her lips.

“You’re not grounded,” Batman muttered eventually.

“I think I should be,” Dick said brightly. “I told the Justice League . That’s like, your entire trauma buffet.”

“You were drugged.”

“I breathed too close to your trauma and it exploded, B.”

Silence again.

Then. “So… you’re actually… his son?” Flash said, a little hesitant.

Dick turned to look at him. Blinked. Paused. And then, quietly, winced.

“Oh no,” Lantern muttered.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Nightwing sucked in a breath, expression pained. “I tried. I tried so hard . But then you asked . And now I have to answer.”

Batman stepped forward, “Don’t…”

“Yes,” Dick blurted, and then gasped like he’d been punched. “Oh God, it hurts not to say it. Yes. He’s my dad. Kind of. Not biologically. Adoption. He took me in when I was nine. It’s a whole thing. I used to be Robin, oh crap , that’s not public knowledge…”

Flash let out a small shriek. Diana closed her eyes, like she was physically bracing for the flood.

“It was a different costume,” Dick continued helplessly. “Red and green. Bit gaudy. Lots of flips. So many flips . I was like the Bat's emotionally unstable parrot.”

“Robin was a child ?” Lantern said, scandalized.

“Hey! I was a very cool child. And competent. Mostly. ”

“I knew it,” Diana said quietly. “Not the specifics.But the way you moved earlier… The trust between you.”

Batman didn’t reply. Just stood like a shadow carved into the floor.

“You were so worried,” Nightwing said suddenly, looking up at him. His voice softened. “I saw you. You came running.”

Batman, for his record, didn’t flinch.

“And you didn’t even touch me. You were scared it would be too much. You always do that.”

“Nightwing.”

“No, I know.” He sighed. “You love me. I know that. But you never say it out loud, and that’s fine, ‘cause I do. I know you do.”

A beat. Then he added thoughtfully, “But if I die from this, I’m gonna haunt your brooding spot and tell every single ghost about the time you dressed up like Matches Malone and fake-died for six weeks to test my emotional resilience.”

Batman’s eye twitched.

Superman coughed into his hand, suspiciously close to a laugh.

“I like them,” He said suddenly, turning his head to glance at the League. “They’re good people. Bit nosy. And dramatic. But who isn’t?”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Diana asked, voice careful.

“Because it was safer,” Dick said honestly, before Batman could. “For us. For him. For me. And because we promised.”

“We?”

“All of us,” he said. “The family. There’s more of us. We’re like trauma nesting dolls. Seven of us now? Eight? It’s a blur.”

Flash made a faint wheezing sound.

“But it wasn’t about you,” Nightwing added. “It’s never been about keeping you out. It’s about protecting what’s ours. You know how hard it is, being soft? Being… someone’s kid? Especially when that someone’s him ?”

He turned back to Batman. “You did your best.”

“…You shouldn’t be talking,” Batman said finally, and the words came out tight.

“I can’t stop talking,” Nightwing replied cheerfully. “Did you miss the part where I literally can’t stop talking ?”

“Sedative’s ready,” a medic said gently from the door.

“Oh good,” Nightwing sighed. “My mouth is getting tired. You think I can take a nap now? Or am I gonna blurt out the Batmobile’s password in my sleep?”

“I changed it,” Batman muttered.

“I know. It’s Alfie4Ever, all caps.”

A beat of stunned silence.

“…You never had a chance,” Superman said to Batman, sympathy and amusement in his eyes.

Batman just pinched the bridge of his nose.

Nightwing smiled faintly, and finally, mercifully, let his eyes drift closed. “I missed you,” he mumbled. “Glad you called.”

Batman didn’t answer. But this time, when he reached out, he placed one gloved hand on Dick’s shoulder, and didn’t let go.

Notes:

Surprisingly, no angst this time! I’m just as shocked as you are. I thought I couldn’t write anything without emotional destruction, but apparently, all it took was a drugged Dick Grayson, a concerned Batman, and some League members finally connecting the dots. Honestly? Writing sweet delirium was a lot more fun. Angst may be out of my lane for now, but rambling Nightwing is where I thrive.

 

Damian: Did he reveal everything? In public? Father needs to revoke his eldest privileges. Immediately.
Jason (wheezing): He confessed live to the Justice League. Peak comedy. I’m framing this.
Tim: What was in that serum?? I’d like six doses. For science.
Steph: New headcanon: the drug just unlocked his true essence. Which is a glittery ball of chaos.
Cass (signing): Cute.
Duke: And that’s why he’s not allowed to touch mystery vials.
Barbara: I’ve uploaded the clip to five clouds. Just in case history forgets.

 

On that note, who do you think should be next? I'm thinking Cass or Damian.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of The Justice League Group Chat Renamed: 'there's more of him'