Title: Instincts Beneath the Wings Wayne Manor, Sublevel Hall – Present Day

The metal of the reinforced door was cool under Dick Grayson's gloved hand. He stood just outside your room — well, more like your self-imposed cage — deep in the lower levels of Wayne Manor, far from prying eyes and judgmental silence. The place Bruce once called the “quiet wing.” Ironic now, considering the storm raging behind it.

You hadn’t come out in nearly 48 hours. Not for food. Not for Alfred. Not even for him.

He exhaled slowly, his hand balling into a fist, knuckles resting gently on the door.

“Hey,” he said quietly, voice carrying just enough weight to be heard through the thick door, but soft enough to be safe. “It’s me.”

Silence answered him. But he didn’t expect anything else — not right away.

“I know what's going on,” he continued, pressing his forehead against the cold frame. “Okay, not everything. But I know enough. Thanagarian physiology. Cycles. The... urges. And I know how much you hate it. How much it scares you.”

Inside, you paced. Wings tight against your back, jaw clenched. The heat under your skin wasn’t just biological — it was emotional. Ancient instincts clawed at your mind, but it wasn’t mindless. No, it was worse. You still had your mind… and that meant you felt every second of it.

Your voice, rough, broke through finally. “You should go, Dick.”

He closed his eyes. It was your voice — strained, fraying at the edges — but still yours. That was a win.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “You could scream at me, hit me, even tell me you never want to see me again — and I’d still be standing right here.”

You swallowed hard, the heat rising behind your eyes this time. You hated how much that meant.

“I’m dangerous,” you whispered.

“Then I’ll take the risk.”

Silence again. But this time, it wasn’t empty.

“Alfred’s worried. Bruce is pretending not to be.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Typical. But me? I’m not just worried. I’m... here.”

His voice softened, more than before. “You’ve always been the strongest out of all of us, you know. Not just physically. You carry two worlds inside you — Gotham and Thanagar — and somehow you keep both in check. But right now? You don't have to carry it alone.”

You pressed your palm against the door. On the other side, he did the same. A quiet moment passed between the steel and skin.

“I feel like I’m unraveling,” you said, breath catching. “Like something else is clawing its way up. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Dick hesitated, then said firmly, “Then let me help you through it. Because I’ve seen every version of you. The scared kid hiding wings. The hero who saved my life more than once. The person I—” He stopped himself.

You caught it. “The person you...?”

Another pause.

“The person I care about,” he said, finally. Steady. Unshaken. “Maybe more than I should. Definitely more than Bruce would be thrilled about.”

You laughed, even if it cracked in the middle. “He’d kill you.”

“Worth it,” he said immediately, smiling just a little. “So. You gonna let me in?”

You hesitated. Fingers hovering over the security panel. Every instinct said no. That it was safer this way. For him. For you.

But the part of you that wasn’t just Thanagarian… the part that grew up sneaking out of missions with Dick, training with him, laughing with him in the shadows of the Batcave…

That part reached out.

A soft click echoed in the hall. The door unlocked.

Dick stepped inside.

You stood in the dim light, wings flexed, eyes glowing faintly gold from the pressure building in your veins — and he saw you, all of you, and didn’t flinch.

Instead, he took a step forward. And then another. And then—he wrapped his arms around you, careful but firm.

You didn’t break. You melted.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “No matter what this turns into. I’ve got you