Chapter 30
Wayne Manor – Gym Loft, Mid-Morning
Peter was upside down.
Literally.
He hung from a trapeze bar twenty feet off the gym floor, legs hooked, arms folded loosely as he stared at the ceiling like it owed him answers.
Dick watched from below, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“You planning to stay up there all day, or is this your new brooding spot?” Dick called.
Peter didn’t move. “It’s quiet up here. Good view. No expectations.”
“You sound like me at fifteen.”
Peter finally unhooked his legs, flipped mid-air, and landed in a clean crouch — light as breath. “You weren’t raised by assassins.”
Dick shrugged. “No, but I’ve got trauma bingo filled out just fine.”
Peter blinked. Then—he laughed. Really laughed.
Dick stepped forward, tossing him a towel. “I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”
Peter caught the towel, wiping sweat from his brow. “About what?”
Dick sat down on the edge of the platform. “About brothers. About being the oldest. About how it sucks sometimes.”
Peter tilted his head. “I thought you liked being the golden one.”
“I did. Until I realized everyone expected me to shine all the time.”
Peter didn’t reply. He just… listened. That alone said something.
Dick glanced at him. “You and Damian were raised in a world that tried to make you weapons. Me? I was raised in tights and circus lights. But we all got tossed into the deep end.”
Peter leaned back against the beam. “So what, you’re here to be my mentor now?”
Dick smiled. “No. I’m here to tell you that if you ever want someone to talk to who doesn’t expect anything from you—who doesn’t want a warrior or a ghost or a mistake—you’ve got me.”
Peter went quiet for a long moment. Then said, softly, “Why?”
“Because I see you trying to stand alone even when you’re surrounded by people who would carry you if you asked.”
Peter blinked fast. Looked away. Voice rough. “I don’t know how to ask.”
“You don’t have to,” Dick said, standing and resting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re family. That’s enough.”
Peter looked up at him. A beat passed.
Then—he nodded.
And for the first time since stepping foot in the manor, Peter let someone catch him without a fight.