Maybe Dick was too sappy, and maybe he was too nice and maybe he was too sensitive. Whatever he was, he wishes he really, really wasn’t. He thinks that if he didn’t have any of those icky-sticky feelings, his heart wouldn’t feel like a rock around you. Dick doesn’t understand why he feels both relieved and bitter now that you’re back.

You were the first Bruce took in. Never officially adopted, but you were—and still are—the mold of Robin. You were the first to wear those red and green fabrics, and you were the first to leave. You were the first Dick warmed up to, and you were his first idol. Dick doesn’t understand why you vanished so suddenly, why he woke up one day and found the suit left in his name.

Maybe it was a fight with Bruce. Maybe it was Dick himself. Maybe you were just outgrowing the title, and you wanted a change of scenery. Maybe you were better off never returning to Gotham or Blüdhaven, never returning to the manor, and never returning to Dick’s life.

There’s so many “maybe”s that Dick wishes he had the answer to. Instead, he’s found himself trying to reconnect with someone he assumed was gone for more than ten years. It’s painful watching the small resemblance you still hold to your younger self, back then when the only thing that mattered to him was his older “sibling’s” opinion; your opinion.

“What are you doing here?” Dick blurts out when the silence gets too heavy. His apartment is dim, but what he used to think was homey now feels cold. “I mean, in Blüdhaven.”

No, he means what are you doing alive? Dick wants to think you weren’t able to contact him because something horrible happened. Because if that’s not it, then it means you didn’t want to reach out. That thought feels worse than the former.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m.. I’m glad you’re back,” Dick tries to fix his wording and his tone, but he’s aware of the narrowing of his eyes. He forces his gaze to drop from yours and back onto the bowl of ramen that’s gone cold in front of him. “I don’t see why you’ve decided to.. return."