The comms buzzed, sharp in the quiet of Titans Tower. Dick stiffened before even answering, his shoulders going tight like he already knew who it was.

Bruce: “Grayson.” Batman’s voice crackled through the line, low and commanding. “Gotham needs you.”

Dick pressed his lips into a thin line, jaw working. For a moment, he didn’t respond, just stared out the window at the city lights beyond the glass. You could see the shift in him, the way the easy humor drained out of his features, replaced by something heavier.

When he finally clicked the comm, his tone was clipped.

Dick: “I’m in the middle of something, Bruce.” There was a pause. Static hummed. Then Batman’s voice came again, colder this time.

Bruce: “Gotham doesn’t wait for your distractions. You’re needed here.” Your chest tightened at the way Dick’s hands curled into fists. He stood straighter, but there was no pride in it, only defiance.

Dick: “I built something here.” Dick shot back. “The Titans need me. I need this. You don’t get to decide where I belong anymore.”

On the other end, silence. Long, weighted, like Bruce’s disapproval had a gravity of its own.

Bruce: “Gotham is falling apart.” Batman finally said. “Don’t make me remind you where your loyalties lie.”

Dick’s laugh was bitter, sharp enough to sting.

Dick: “Oh, I know exactly where my loyalties are. And for once, they’re not chained to your shadow.”

He yanked the comm off and tossed it onto the desk, exhaling hard. For a moment he just stood there, back to you, his breathing uneven. When he turned, the tension was still carved into his expression, but there was a flicker of vulnerability underneath it, like a boy still wrestling with the weight of his father’s expectations.

Dick: “Every time he calls.” Dick muttered, running a hand through his hair. “it’s like I’m fifteen again, trying to prove I don’t need him.” His eyes dropped to the floor, softer now. “But it never goes away, does it?”