Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn’t often that they needed to fill in for one another to keep their cover. It was a perk that came with being a nighttime — for the most part — vigilante that was rarely seen in the public eye, only interacting with the occasional police officer, Commissioner Gordon, the Rogues, and the more unfortunate civilians that needed saving.

But that didn’t mean that it didn’t need to happen. The internet, Gotham especially, loves theorizing about their Bats and Birds. The “Batman is Bruce Wayne allegations” were so famous that Brucie himself said in an interview that it could be possible since “you have never seen me and Batman in the same room” with a coy wink.

Yeah, right. No way in hell.

Gothamites knew for a fact that that airheaded Brucie could never be the Caped Crusader. The more popular and accepted theory was that the two were in a complicated but very much real relationship. And Bruce deemed that enough to keep the public from making the connection between them. Plus, there was that tumultuous time when Bruce disappeared, and Dick donned the cape that further enforced that Bruce and Batman were two separate entities.

And since it worked for Bruce, why wouldn’t it work for them?

If anything, Bruce would be proud that they were taking extra measures to ensure that their identities wouldn’t be compromised. And well, it came with the added bonus of fucking with each other and others (but that was a story for another time).

There were limitations though. They may be rarely seen, but the public had a vague description of each vigilante.

Generally, the girls had the easiest time swapping identities with Black Bat’s full-face cowl, Spoiler’s variant mask being a similar fashion and their matching heights. And if either of them was unable to put on the suit, Tim pulled off a pretty convincing Black Bat and Spoiler.

The boys (except Damian) had a tier list of who could be their vigilante selves from “best” to “last resort”. Unsurprisingly, Dick was at the top of their lists. His height and build were right in the middle of what others assumed to be their official heights and weight. He had the experience of imitating others and the confidence due to his background as a performer. Next was Jason for similar reasons. And he and Dick did not have the responsibility of being a student and/or being a CEO.

Sadly, as well as Damian could imitate anyone’s voice, he could not play the role of his older siblings. He would have to wait a few years.

So other than that setback, what’s really stopping them?

Chapter Text

Richard Wayne was Brucie Wayne’s first child. He was also one of the only few Wayne children who was, in fact, a child when they joined the family that the Gotham residents got to watch grow from a child to a man. It was an interesting progression. The lively nine-year-old dubbed Dickie had boundless energy, often stirring up trouble for Brucie at galas by swinging off chandeliers and flipping off of furniture. The press liked to joke that it was Brucie’s comeuppance for his wild days. They devoured every interaction between father and adopted son. And Brucie and Dickie, being the performers they were, were more than happy to provide.

It all changed when Dickie was eighteen. All of a sudden, as if to distance himself from his father’s shadow, Dickie disappeared from the public eye. Only reappearing when the press caught wind of a Richard John Grayson joining the police department of Gotham’s sister city. They worried for Dickie. Blüdhaven was no place for Brucie’s precious boy, Gotham’s little prince. However, whatever fallout that happened between the two caused Dickie to mature into a decorated officer. Dickie no longer fit this new side of Brucie’s son, and out of respect for that, Dickie became Richard (or Officer Grayson) in the papers. Other than the news of Richard’s accomplishments, the only other time Richard was seen was with his new younger siblings. It was only with these outings that glimpses of Dickie would re-emerge.

Dickie would completely disappear when Brucie dropped off the map to “rediscover” himself — or so the public was told — and Richard took over Wayne Enterprises as the rest of the siblings were too irresponsible (Jace and Annie), too meek (Sandy), or too young (Timothy and Damian). The newly ordained CEO split his time between Blüdhaven and WE, working remotely for the most part. And becoming such an important figure in Gotham’s economy relegated Officer Grayson to desk duty in the BPD.

Without Brucie, the rest of the children scattered. Sandy went to Hong Kong for her ballet career. Jace decided this was prime time to travel around the U.S. without Brucie’s supervision. Annie was away for college. And Timothy took a leap year to travel the world.

Leaving young adult Richard Wayne to parent newly introduced, much younger Damian Wayne alone in Gotham.

It felt like déjà-vu to Gotham. Richard was only a few years younger than Brucie himself was when he took him in.

The parallels didn’t stop there. It seemed Brucie had a stronger impression on Richard than anyone thought as Richard returned to being wild and playful once he and Brucie officially returned to Gotham, marking the occasion by welcoming a new foster sibling — Duke Thomas. (Distance makes the heart grow fonder. It seemed like that adage held true for Richard.) Another case of déjà-vu: a Gotham darling returning after a period of absence only to be a well-meaning but an absolute batshit crazy party animal. It must be something about Gotham’s air. He was no longer the innocently cute and energetic Dickie. No, he followed closely in his father’s footsteps. Going from Gotham’s precious prince to Gotham’s top bachelor. The press renamed him Richie; he was the fun older brother who took his siblings out on the town to parties and shopping sprees.

If Gothamites thought poor defenseless Dickie was targeted, they weren’t ready for adult, going-out-and-about, very kind, very charismatic, very attractive and very wealthy Richie.

Of all crimes against Richie, kidnappings were a favourite — and wasn’t that a unique quirk for someone to have? A favourite crime against your being — among those who partook in the criminal activities. They tend to be for ransom most of the time, for a date less so, but it happened enough to at least warrant a second thought.

Point is, Gothamites didn’t bat an eye when seeing a van pull up with a handful of masked individuals grabbing Richie by the arm. Muscle memory kicked in, whoever was still taking pictures of the socialite switched to filming and the rest pulled out their phone to report to the GCPD another kidnapping. They may be Gothamites, but the Waynes were special. There was a reason out of all the rich people in Gotham, the Waynes were the favourites. Other than the endless entertainment, the Waynes earned as much as they gave to the city. And while they would never personally intervene (they didn’t love the Waynes that much), they wouldn’t wish ill on the family. They experienced what harm it did to everyone whenever tragedy struck.

Richie blinked owlishly as he was being tugged towards the vehicle. “Oh! Are you here to pick me up? I was just about to call Alfie! He really does know everything, huh? Alfie’s too good for us.”

To the kidnappers’ credit, they didn’t falter or show any bafflement. They suppose the underground talk warned them about Richie’s airheaded responses to kidnappers as they continued to usher the bachelor into the van while he babbled about the Wayne butler’s aptitudes.

The van just got around a corner when it was forced to stop due to a familiar black and blue cycle racing towards the vehicle, and screeched to a halt a mere metre away. The figure riding the cycle did a front handspring with a full double twist thrown in as an added flare across the gap and landed on the hood of the van, crackling escrimas pointed intimidatingly at the windshield. How was the helmet off his head between braking and the flips? Gotham didn’t know and probably will never know.

There was a moment of hesitation, the kidnappers most likely weighing their options of confronting the oldest of Batman’s brood.

“Come on now.” Nightwing drawled, smirking lightly. “Lot more people in the daytime. You don’t want to do this with an audience, do you? Could be fun though. Maybe I should switch shifts?”

His tone is casual, playful even, which is a good sign. They all know that a silent Nightwing is a dangerous Nightwing. Not that normal Nightwing wasn’t dangerous — he most definitely was — but normal Nightwing knew where to draw the line, silent Nightwing did not.

Which means the kidnappers could get out of this unscathed if they were sensible.

“Signal could always use a partner, right? Gotham’s big.” He continued to muse. “So, what’d ya say? Are we putting on a show or bowing out?”

Seems like these guys knew when to quit. A bit of a shame really. Gotham rarely got to see the Blüdhaven vigilante fight in sub-optimal lighting, i.e. stumbling upon a takedown at an ungodly hour, so a midday arrest was a treat. It was a quick affair, an unspoken order where the would-be kidnappers filled out one by one to have their wrists bound and were shuffled towards the GCPD cruisers.

Securely in custody, Nightwing made his way over to the van's opened rear door and leaned in as Richie had most likely been shoved into the very back of the vehicle.

“Mr. Wayne?” Nightwing asked, offering a hand. “Your kidnappers have been taken into custody. Are you alright?”

In lieu of answering, Richie barrelled into the taller man. Nightwing easily braced himself to catch the socialite. How the vigilante didn’t even flinch when he clearly caught a shoulder to the ribs, Gotham didn’t know.

“Oh! My hero!” Richie gushed, laying on thick the hero worship. “Daddy Brucie would be so upset if I got taken by those nasty meanies again, I’m so lucky to have you save me!”

Anyone with eyes could practically see the hearts that punctuated Richie’s sentences.

Dick internally cackled as he saw Jason hold back a full body cringe and plastered on a smile.

“No worries, Mr. Wayne. I’m glad you aren’t hurt.” His mouth says.

Don’t make me regret saving you, dickhead. His eyes say.

And what kind of big brother would he be if he didn’t rise to the challenge?

“Please, Nightwing. Everyone calls me Richie; Mr. Wayne is my father, or my little brother Timmy.” He made sure to giggle airily. “Did you know he’s co-CEO with my dad? Isn’t that amazing? He’s only seventeen. Golly, when I was seventeen, I was still hanging off chandeliers!”

“You say that as if you weren’t CEO yourself, Richie.” Nightwing commented conversationally.

Richie waved off the remark. “I was just keeping the seat warm. I was no good at all that cushy stuff anyway.”

“Seeing how Wayne Enterprises didn’t burn to the ground under your tenure, you surely weren’t all that bad.” Nightwing rebutted as he cut the zip-ties off Richie’s wrists.

Dick rubbed the tender marks left behind by the plastic bindings and looked up to Jason in what he knew the public saw as gratitude, but his family knew was a little too shit-eating to be genuine.

He made sure to keep a hold on Jason’s hands, so his little brother couldn’t pull away immediately. Dick felt the way he tenses in anticipation and grins inwardly, planting a sloppy wet thank-you kiss on Jason’s cheek.

Let it be known that he would never miss the opportunity to lavish his siblings with his affection while they’re unable to reject it.

“Still, to save little ol’me? When you’re so busy with Gotham and Blüdhaven? I’m sure the GCPD would’ve handled it just fine!”

That was a lie, a simple promise of a cut on the ransom money would be enough for a corrupt cop to turn the other cheek only for Batman and/or co to save whatever poor soul being ransomed. Commissioner Gordon was great at weeding them out, but to overhaul a whole department of rotating officers is a near-impossible task.

“Sure, they would. I just happen to be in the area, so I figured I’d lend a hand. It’s no big deal, Richie.” Nightwing said neutrally, leading Richie towards the paramedics. “I got here pretty quick, so other than his wrists, Richie should have a clean bill of health. I’ll escort him back to Wayne Manor. I’m sure everyone is worried about him.”

Unlikely, seeing how Oracle was the one who picked up the chatter about a possible attempt at kidnapping Richie and used it to Dick’s favour in solidifying the separation between Nightwing and Dick Grayson. But hey, they got to stick to the script.

Unsurprisingly, the paramedics sent him off after a basic physical check and applying some arnica cream on the light bruising circling Dick’s wrists, all the while Richie chattered their ears off. With how the Waynes are, they are frequent flyers to Gotham’s emergency services (both lawful and medical), so they huffed indulgently and sent Richie and Nightwing on their merry way. Damn, Dick needed to up the ante if all he got was an exasperatedly fond sigh rather an annoyed grunt and rush job to leave Richie Wayne’s vicinity as soon as possible. Maybe he was losing his touch. But, according to Jason’s twitching eyebrow, he was doing just fine being annoying.

Walking backwards to wave and blow kisses enthusiastically to the paramedics, Dick let himself be ushered towards a police cruiser. They arrived at the manor with little fanfare and are welcomed by Alfred who thanked the officers and vigilante, offering refreshments that sadly needed to be refused, then Dick was ushered again further into the manor — no doubt to the Batcave.

He was guided (read: pushed) to the medbay where an unimpressed Damian was waiting. The rest of the family was surrounding the Batcomputer. Barbara had the surveillance pulled on one of the screens, which showed the street where Richie was going to be taken — a safety measure — on the off chance the kidnapping was successful.

“Welcome back, Boy Hostage.” Barbara greeted. “We’re waiting on Jason now to begin the performance review.”

As if on cue, the familiar sound of a motorcycle entered the Batcave. Jason shook out the helmet hair, peeling off the domino mask and rubbing off the leftover adhesive and coloured hairspray with a grimace.

“Man of the hour! Welcome back!” Stephanie cheered, easily dragging Jason closer to the Batcomputer to witness his acting.

Dick finally got to openly laugh at his little brother’s clear discomfort of seeing his interaction with Richie in the third person, complete with comedic zoom-ins and live commentary courtesy of the dynamic duo of technology and film: Barbara and Tim.

“I don’t understand why you must put on such an asinine persona.” Damian turned his nose up disdainfully at the airheaded giggle Richie let out on screen. “It is unbecoming.”

“It’s not so bad, Dami. It’s kind of fun being the dumbest one in the room sometimes.” Dick shrugged, hoping off the exam table once Alfred and Damian deemed him unharmed. “Plus, the look on Jason’s face? So worth it.”

“Speaking of worth, good job staying in character while Richie laid it thick on you. But I don’t think you’re going to be winning any Oscars, Jay.” Stephanie cackled, rewinding the footage to the part where Richie threw himself at Nightwing. “You were looking a little plastic there.”

Duke piped in after a mouthful of popcorn, contemplative. “Does he? He looks pretty relaxed to me.”

“Tense. Annoyed.” Cassandra tapped the screen where there was an imperceptible tick in Nightwing’s jaw (well, imperceptible unless you knew where to look). “Getting better. Will learn.”

“And speaking of being in character!” Dick practically skipped over in pride, draping himself over Jason. “You remember how to do the double twist?”

Jason bristled at the tone, shoving his older brother off who annoyingly cartwheeled to stay on his feet rather than stumble like a normal person. “I had to add it. You made it your whole fuckin’ personality to flip and shit. It would be suspicious if I didn’t throw one in.”

“Doubtful. Simpletons would not be able to distinguish an absent flourish. Todd’s performance was adequate to fool the common people of Gotham.” Damian huffed,

Jason raised an eyebrow, surprised by the near-positive comment which basically amounted to a glowing review from Damian. “That a compliment, Demon Brat?”

“If merely being adequate is satisfactory praise, it is no wonder your standards are so subpar.” Damian deflected, but the whole family noticed that the youngest neither confirmed nor denied the compliment.

Knowing that pointing out that fact would have Damian lash out, they turned back to the video feed where Richie was showing his thanks with waves and blown kisses. The affection was the only thing they couldn’t escape as Richie, Dick or Nightwing, the one constant between the three identities.

“Ugh, I hate saving Richie.” Jason grimaced, scraping the back of his hand against his cheek. “Why’d you decide to be an affectionate fuck? I swear I still feel your slobber on me, dickface.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to get back at him, Jason.” Tim laughed, patting Jason on the shoulder in mock sympathy.

He’s probably the only fucker who didn’t mind Dick’s affection.

What childhood neglect does to a bitch.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”