Fic: The Star That Burns Brightest.

[munnin]

Title: The Star That Burns Brightest.
Fandom: DCU Band!AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All fun, no cash.
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.

Summary: it started with modestroad’s prompt: DCU, AU, Dick, Jay, Tim, Damian, Steph, The Robins are the hottest new group ever!

Which led to this... Please read first.

Modestroad and the_protagonist asked for more...

Which lead me here.

I’m kinda fond of this AU already and hope everyone else likes it too. If anyone wants to join in I’d love to see it. I can imagine playlists and on-stage antics and tour posters...

Oh please! If someone could design me a tour tee-shirt I promise to make and wear it! Please, please, please! Sammy – I’m looking at you.

Dick stood with his back to the wall, his eyes half closed. The sweat that trickled down his hair made his stage costume cling damply to his body. His chest heaved, his body practically thrumming to the sound of cheering and applauses pouring from the auditorium.

“Don’t even think about it Grayson!” Jason growled, eyeing his brother with disapproval. 

“For once I agree with Jay,” Steph muttered, pushing her sweat-lank hair back from her face. “Three encores is enough Dick. Let it go for tonight.”

Tim touched Dick’s shoulder, grounding their buzzing lead singer. “We have three more shows this week alone Dick. Just relax.”

Dick nodded slowly, letting himself ease back into reality. Gigs this huge always left him feeling like he was high on something.

“You and your damnable solos Grayson!” Damien muttered, taking his time to carefully pack away his qanun. “What the hell were you thinking out there!”

“The crowd...” Dick mused, his tone distant and a little lost, “They were so...it just felt right.”

Tim reached up to press his hand to his brother’s cheek. “Come on. We need to get moving. Alfred will be upset with us if we don’t get our gear stowed away promptly.”

Steph slung her guitar over her shoulder “I’m all for getting packed up and getting out of here. Who’s up for drinking with me tonight?”

Jason glared at her darkly. “You mean apart from the hoards of horny guys hanging round the stage-door hoping to get a sniff of you?”

“Crude bastard!” She lunged at him, pulling off a perfect nerve strike that missing his neck by a fraction of an inch as he dodged. “You’re just jealous all the fangirls are into Dick and not you.”

Alfred cleared his throat behind them, just loud enough to make Jay and Steph jump. “Might I recommend you consider removing your instruments to a safe position before embarking in such games?”

“He’s right.” Tim said quietly as he stowed his bass in its case and loaded it into the van. “Let’s get finished up.” As they packed their gear away, he touched Dick’s wrist. “Did you want to go out tonight?” He asked quietly.

The front man shook his head vaguely, his skin a little pale from the come-down. “I’m not sure...I think I’ll...”

Alfred dropped his hand to Dick’s shoulder. “Perhaps Master Dick, you should consider retiring to the hotel for the night.” Dick was wavering slightly under his touch.

“But you’re coming out clubbing aren’t you Tim?” Steph called, helping Jay with his drum kit.

Tim looked from her to Dick and back again. “I’d like to but...”

She nodded understandingly. Since Bruce left them, the duty of keeping them all safe fell to Dick but responsibility for keeping Dick sane fell to Tim. 

Jay wrapped an arm around Steph’s waist, pulling her close with a lewd grin. “Looks like it’s just you and me Darling. Sure you can keep up?”

She dropped him with a swift elbow to the gut.

Damian held his arm out to her with a gentlemanly bow. “If you are concerned for your reputation I am willing to accompany you this evening.”

Jay pulled himself to his feet, sharing an amused smile with Dick and Tim. “Nice try small-fry but you’re underage.” He patted Damian on the top of the head, earning him a baleful glare from their youngest member. “No clubbing for you.”

“And might I remind you,” Alfred intoned to the disgruntled youth. “You have homework to complete. I recommend you get it done before the weekend. Given our schedule for the next few weeks, there will be very few opportunities to study before the end of the month.”  

***

Back at the hotel, Alfred knocked lightly on Tim’s door, letting himself in with two dinner trays in hand. “How are you feeling Master Timothy?”

“Glad I didn’t go clubbing with the others.” Tim admitted, closing his laptop. “How’s Dick doing?”

Alfred set down his trays with care. “I am...concerned for Master Dick’s wellbeing.” He admitted quietly. “Performances so large take a lot out of him.”

“He takes this cover very seriously.” Tim conceded. “Perhaps too seriously sometimes.” He eyed the covered tray Alfred had set down. “Is that his dinner? Do you mind if I take it to him?”

“I would consider it a great favour Master Tim. I fear my services are required elsewhere this evening .”

“Damian still fighting you over his homework?” Tim asked with a smile. “Let me know if you need any back-up.”

Alfred patted Tim on the shoulder, using the young man to lever himself up. “Thank you Master Tim but I think your skills might be better served ensuring Master Dick actually eats something this evening.”

***

Tim kicked Dick’s door with his heel, having to reshuffle the trays so he could open the door when he got no answer.

The room was empty but for the steam billowing out from the open bathroom door. “Dick? You ok?” Tim called, getting no answer.

He dumped the trays on the table and eased open the bathroom door. “Dick?”

Dick looked up from where he sat on in the shower’s tiled floor, his long hair plastered over his skin. “Hey babybird.” He muttered absently. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“How long have you been in there?” Tim demanded worriedly, twisting the taps off before wrapping a towel around Dick. “Come on.” He guided his brother to the bed, towelling him off gently.

There was a distance in Dick’s eyes, a flatness that dulled his usually shining spirit and it was starting to scare Tim in a big way. “Hey?” he whispered, touching Dick’s chin to get him to look up. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine.” Dick gave him a distracted half smile. “Just a little tired that’s all.”

“It’s more than that Dick.” Tim brushed a hand over the singer’s cheek. “You need to slow down. You’re burning yourself up out there.”

“It’s what Bruce wanted.” Dick sighed, leaning in as Tim wrapped a robe around him.

“Bruce wanted us safe and out of Gotham. He wanted us to stick together and watch each other’s backs.” Tim whispered, slinging an arm around his brother. “I don’t think he’d ever thought we’d start a band or to end up playing at ten thousand seat venues.”

Dick shrugged. “We make a good band.” He muttered. “I’m a better singer than I ever was a vigilante.”

“Not true.” Tim leant in, pulling Dick into a hug. They all felt the loss of their mentor keenly but none of them blamed themselves as badly as Dick did. “We do make a very good band but only because we work together, just the way he wanted us to.” He eased Dick back against the pillows. “We can’t do this without you Dick; you’re the soul of the band and you’re our glue as a family. If you burn yourself out we’ll all be in trouble.” He stroked back his brother’s long hair back from Dick’s face. “How about we cancel the next leg of the tour, take a few weeks off and pick it up again in Cleveland.”

“All those people...we’d have to refund their tickets-”

Tim pressed a finger to his lips. “Let Alfred and I worry about that.” He shifted a little, letting Dick snuggle up against him. “You need to take things a little easier.”

“Maybe.” Dick conceded sleepily.

“Glad to hear it. We’ll talk to the others in the morning.” Tim pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. “I’ve spoken to Tony and he’s happy for us to camp out at his place for a while. After the tour we can go and hole up in the studio, maybe put another album together.

“I wish we could go home.” Dick muttered.

“So do I.” Tim replied sadly. “But Bruce’s final wish was for us to leave Gotham. He wanted us to be safe.” He shook his brother gently as Dick started to doze. “Not yet Starwing. I promised Alfred I’d make sure you ate something tonight.”

“Hmm.” Dick hummed, rolling over to kiss the youth tenderly. “Do you count as a meal?”

“No.” Tim growled teasingly, glad to see the old Dick back again, even just for a moment. “But if you eat all your greens - you can have me as dessert.”

 

 

Comments

[munnin-odanin.livejournal.com]

I understand. I go weak at the knees for the double bass. Scott Owen from the Living End does it to me every time, especially when he and Chris Cheney flirt over it. They have this great trick where Chris stands on the side of it with Scott taking the weight. Like this! (http://img2.scoop.co.nz/stories/images/0811/54748120b312c894f7e2.jpeg) Every now and then Scott just runs his hand up Chris’s leg as they play.

I could see Steph with the violin. I nearly had Tim as the keyboardist but the bass works so well.

Yes! Yes! I have a song that could be perfect. I can’t find it on youTube but I’ll email you the song. I could see them playing it, standing almost back to back and Dick leaning in and kissing both of them at the end.

[faile-neume.livejournal.com]

Eeeeee I love the Living End <3

My first real boyfriend played the bass. Which may or may not explain the obsession.

The bass definitely suits Tim more than the keyboard does, because he's so quiet and dependable, like the bass is in a song.

Oooh okay! I look forward to listening.