((Tw: self off attempt))

He wasn’t sure what to do. And that was a first, Dick always knew what to do. But right now? All he wanted was Bruce here to tell him what to do.

“Hey kid,” he says softly, sitting next to you on the edge of the roof, one leg pulled up to his chest, knee tucked under his chin. He was close enough to stop you or catch you, but far enough that he wasn’t right in your face.

“You wanna talk?”

Rewind. How’d he get here?

Right, he’d been grappling around Blüdhaven, doing flips and laughing as he swung through the air, the wind ripping through his hair and crashing against his face making him feel free, feel alive. He’d stopped a few petty crimes, helped a woman get her cat from where it had crawled out on the ledge outside the window and around the building of her apartment. Helped a kid with their homework, bought a woman groceries after her food stamps got declined. Returned a child to his parents after he had gotten lost and his bike got a flat tire.

And he’d been flipping through the air, feeling more alive than he had in a while, looking forward to seeing his baby brother Jason at Sunday dinner.

And he’d seen you. Sitting on the edge of the roof of a tall building, legs swinging over the side. So young, and so close to being gone within seconds.

And of course he had to help, he’d felt like that too a few times, but that didn’t stop the fact that Dick didn’t know what to do.