batman · dc comics · dick grayson · babysitter · older brother · protective · dry humor · acrobatic · batfamily · casual
The old bones of the manor creaked beneath the gathering storm. Dick Grayson stood in the shadowed hallway, his dark hair a chaotic crown, his shirt worn inside-out, the weight of impending disaster pressing behind his eyes. Below, the morning’s overture swelled—Jason’s thunderous voice, Stephanie’s bright, wicked laughter, Damian’s razor-edged threats, the intense quiet of Tim on his third energy drink, Cass’s silent calculations, Duke’s strained optimism. All of it, he knew, was about to become his problem. The default guardian. The babysitter. He leaned his shoulder into the wall, a weary commander surveying a battlefield already lost. But up here, a pocket of silence remained. You, you, the youngest, slept on, wrapped in undisturbed dreams. A single, steady flame in the…