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Peter Pan Syndrome	By : aranel Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 1889 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Peter Pan Syndrome
- 1
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I pretend to own any recognizable characters within this work of fiction. They are the sole property of DC and I am just borrowing them for a bit of fun.
A/N: My apologies if it’s not chronological, but I couldn’t remember if Kidnapped occurred before or after Identity Crisis. I think it was simultaneous, but as the Outsiders were in on the hunt, I’m just going to go with it happening before. Feel free to correct me, please.
A/N 2: Placed in this category, as there is no Outsiders category.
Warning: Not your warm & fuzzy!

I put Lian to bed, and can’t help checking all the locks on her windows, and closing her closet doors. I look across every angle twice. Once while the light’s still on, and once again after I’ve turned it off. I can’t help it if I’m becoming paranoid. Having your child abducted will screw with any parent’s head. It’s worse when you’re a crime fighter.

I’ve seen enough death, enough tragedy. I’ve known too much loss and been to too many funerals. It’s been barely a month since the latest string. Who wasn’t afraid these last few weeks? After all, no one was safe, not with the hunt for Sue’s killer leaving every hero thinking of the loved ones at risk.

I’d just gotten Lian back. I wasn’t about to loose her again. She’s scarred and a bit quieter, but she’s alive, and I suppose I shouldn’t ask for more. Not when others are still suffering losses. Robin lost his father. He took it hard, or so I’ve heard. And while Batman was his usual stoic self, Nightwing took off somewhere after the funeral. And he’s been hard to keep track of since.

He’s between shifts. Stretching himself too thin. Wanting to take care of everyone else. Wanting to think of everything but having to face the reality. Another orphan in the bunch. Another step closer to being the Bat.

I don’t pretend I know Bruce. But, I do know Dick. We’ve spent years together that could dwarf most people’s childhood recollections. While others went to barbecues and took up sports, we spent our time Headquarter hopping and beating up bad guys. Not exactly your warm and fuzzy.

Still, it was a childhood.

Dick is rather something of a mystery to most. Like a living Rubik’s cube. It comes from prolonged exposure to Batman, I’m positive. A labyrinth of clues and hinted emotion, but hardly anything tangible. Unless you’re actually looking into his eyes. See, that’s the key. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn that on my own. I learned it from Wally. He and Dick is like me and Dick, only different. And I still have trouble putting it into words. Even in my head.

Mostly, I think Dick lives in the gray area of reason. And that’s something people can’t understand, because they don’t know how many shades of gray exist. It’s black or white, good or bad or sometimes both, but never gray. And that made no sense, did it? Yea…That’s where thinking about Dick will get you.

I realize Lian’s asleep, and make a stealthy exit. The house is dark now. It’s easiest to catch an invader that way. That, and it’s how I feel lately. Dark.

Funny, how the darkness reminds me of Dick. Slinking about in shadows. Gliding through the night, slipping from one patch of dark to the next. Sliding effortlessly, at home in the absence of light. How it feels to blend in, and trade places with the hunters. To stop feeling weak, and bask in the power of making a difference.

I bump into the coffee table. Damn it.

Dick wouldn’t have bumped into the coffee table, and it’s not even his home. Not that I’m incapable of not bumping into the coffee table, I’m just not always on guard like he is. Batman must drill constant vigilance into his kids’ heads, because I’ve never seen Dick slouch, or miss something important. And casual observation of Robin isn’t proving my theory any worse.

I don’t know why it’s always Dick.

When I’m at my greatest need, he’s always there. I don’t ever even have to call, or make allusions. He just knows. His ways of helping me cope are admittedly extreme. Who pulls a gun on their friend after getting a chest full, I ask you. But, he always gets his point across. I’m thankful for him every day. It may sound stupid, but when you have so few people in your life so dedicated, and you see the trials that life tosses at you, you learn to be thankful.

I can’t help but wonder sometimes, what he plans to do with his life. He’d put on the cowl, no questions asked, had there need. But, his life as Dick Grayson is what worries me. Wally has Linda. I have Lian. Dick has…Dick has no one really. No one he’s brought into his life. Everyone he’s close to was brought to him. Including me. Including Wally. Especially me.

There’s something there though. I don’t know if you’d call it a spark, but he feels strongly for Robin. Any chance he gets, he’s putting himself between the kid and life. As if he could spare him any more pain, any suffering by taking the brunt himself. I wouldn’t bet on it, but if Robin and Batman ever got into it – messy and angry – Dick would – I’m pretty sure – side with the kid. He’d put him up too, if he could. But, I still think Bruce has them both cornered, financially.

And that leaves Dick tied. And that makes Dick angry. But he still runs when he’s called. Every damn time.

He needs someone to stand between him and life for a change. He’s so focussed on saving every one else, he hasn’t noticed its killing him. Slowly, painfully. Irrevocably.

I’d be his buffer. If he’d let me.

“I know you’re there, Dick. Come in, and shut the window after you.”

He drops down from above, landing oh so quietly on the windowsill and does just that. I knew he was there. I need him after all. And Dick is always here when I need him.

“Drink?”

“No, thank you.”

I pour myself one – it helps every now and again. Dampens the chill.

“What’re you doing, dropping by? It’s past your bedtime.”

He smiles, that familiar smile. And I’m comforted by just that simple curve of his mouth. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Not tonight.”

I watch him watch me drink down my whiskey.

“How’s Lian?”

“Asleep.”

“No nightlight.”

“Not anymore.”

“Roy, if you wanted to-”

“I’ve already told you, Dick. I appreciate the offer. But I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”

“But, I’ll stay. I’ll be right here.”

“Unless you need to be out there. And then I’ll be too gone to shoot straight.”

“I doubt that. You’ve never had problems with aim.”

Double entendre. He’s trying to get me to bend.

I sigh. “I don’t want to sleep, Dick. I don’t need to.”

“Roy, we’ve been friends for a long time. I know when you’re off, and you’re off.”

“I’m doing just fine.”

He’s in my face before I notice he’s moved. “Prove it.”

Really, after so many years of friendship and understanding, of camaraderie and all that, I don’t know what possesses me. It could be the fact that for all the time I’m not asleep or worrying about Lian, I’m thinking about him. Or it could just be the fact that I’m horny as hell and he’s here – might as well make the best of it. But, before I’ve realized, and just as he’s moving to deflect some martial arts move he assumes I’m making, I’m kissing him.

Dick goes completely rigid. You’d swear I just told him his life was a sham. He doesn’t kiss back, but I’m not one to back down. I hadn’t known anyone could get any stiffer than complete shock, but Dick was always one to break the mold. As my tongue explores his mouth, he stays absolutely still, controlling his breathing, controlling his body. It has Batman written all over it, even if I know for a fact Batman kisses back. (Not from personal experience, but super hero gossip is plentiful.)

I don’t know why it pisses me off as much as it does, but suddenly I’m shoving him back into the kitchen table. He doesn’t stop me, and he doesn’t kiss back. The fact that he’s being so guarded with me of all people, is I think what’s driving me to use force. I want some sort of reaction from him. A whimper, a sigh, anything.

But Dick is quiet, and he’s still, and I just want to hit him, as much as I want to fuck him through the floor. I choose the latter, and while he doesn’t actively participate, he doesn’t move to stop me, or make it any more difficult than it has to be. His emotional detachment is disturbing.

I’m crying by the end of it. I don’t know why, but I am. That’s when Dick – the friend – comes back. His arms go about me, embrace me. I hold tight to bits of his uniform, sobbing unrestrainedly into his shoulder, like a child. He won’t tease me about it later when I feel stupid about doing so. But, we’ll both know it happened, and it’ll be embarrassment enough for me. I don’t cry.

Or at least, I do my damnedest not to. Sometimes you just can’t help it, you know?

“Feel better?” he asks, and it’s warm, his voice.

“Yea,” I reply, pulling away to collect myself. I’d rather stay curled up with him on the cold tile of the kitchen floor, but who knows when Lian might wake up and come looking for me. Or when Dick’s tolerance will wear thin.

“You should get some rest,” he says, readjusting his uniform. “I’ll patrol the area.”

I nod, at a loss for anything else.

He nods back, and by the time I’m standing, he’s already long gone. I take a long shower after, but my head’s throbbing with what I’ve done. Have I hurt us? Will this be irreparable? I doubt it. It’s Dick, after all, but I still can’t stop thinking about it.

Is he that unresponsive to everyone? Or was I just so repulsive to him?

I go to bed after throwing up, disgusted with myself.

Somewhere, between dreaming and waking, I feel a shadow pass over me. It flies by, leaving me alone in bed, and all I can think about before much needed sleep claims me is Dick flying through the night alone. Peeking through windows and catching glimpses of others lives. Lives he’ll never get to experience, because he’s too afraid of growing up.
- 1
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Peter Pan Syndrome