Dick Grayson liked to think of himself as a normal kid. He went to school, had friends, and an amazing family. There were, of course, some things about him that weren't normal in the slightest. Like the fact that he grew up in the circus, or that he was the adopted son of Gotham City's own billionaire Bruce Wayne. But the most abnormal part of his life by far was that besides all of that, he was Robin- partner of the world's greatest detective, Batman.
Now Dick Grayson preferred his life to be abnormal in these ways. But he had to admit tbat sometimes it got a little more overwhelming than he preferred to show. It was for this reason that he flopped onto his bed, exhausted after a full night of patrol that led straight into school. He felt like a zombie walking the halls. Now, laying on his bed, he could only feel relief. Although being Robin was fun and all, and bringing criminals to justice was awesome, it never completely compensated for the lack of sleep.
He turned over onto his side to look at his digital clock. It was just past three thirty in the afternoon. That was pretty good, he mused. He had gotten lucky and finished all of his homework at school today. Now, he kicked off his shoes and snuggled under the blankets for a nice, long nap.
Alfred came up the stairs about an hour later to check in on the boy. He was unsurprised to see him fast asleep. Just like with Bruce he could sense when Dick had pushed himself too far. Today was no exception. The door was left open, leaving a bit of light to illuminate the peaceful look on the child's face. The older butler smiled ever so slightly before going downstairs to pick up his master from work.
Bruce Wayne sighed as he signed off on the last bit of paperwork he had to file today. He handed them to his too-perky secretary before taking the elevator down to the parking garage. As usual, Alfred was waiting for him in his parking spot. He climbed into the limo and uncharacteristically poured himself a drink. It had been a long day and he was just grateful to be going home.
When they arrived, Bruce made his way upstairs to look in on his son. He was all too pleased to see Dick getting some extra rest. In his opinion, the boy had been pushing himself much too far lately. He went inside Dick's bedroom and gently pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. Smiling slightly, he went to his own room to follow in his son's footsteps.
Alfred woke them both up when it was time for dinner. Dick had awoken happy and, for the first time in a while, well rested. Bruce however, took a few minutes to try and shake the slow, logy feeling he always got in his brain when he first woke up. He was as opposite of a morning person as anyone could be. They sat down at the dinner table, and Dick excitedly chattered to his adoptive father about his day. Despite his intense, burning hatred for mornings, Bruce had to admit that the best part about them was seeing Dick's smiling face.
As they ate their chicken, corn, smashed potatoes and asparagus, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Granted, it was mostly one-sided, but it was still good. Bruce smiled as Dick talked to him about an experiment he did in science class and a math problem he had actually gotten right for the first time in a while. Dick's sunny optimism was undoubtedly Bruce's favorite quality in his son. It was a refreshing change from his own constant pessimism. As he finished his last gulp of coffee, Bruce took his son into the living room where they watched the news. Normally the news anchor droned on about which villains had escaped from Arkham, but today it was not so. Today it was just boring politics. Not long after it was over, Alfred called them back for dessert. They had creme brûlée. After that father and son made their way down to the Batcave to train.
Before Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne had never in his life gave any thought to parenthood. He had assumed that he would die alone, leaving only his possessions behind. Now, However, he couldn't imagine life without him. His son was a shimmering beacon in the darkness. The thing that gave him strength in the worst times. Now, Wayne Manor finally held some level of happiness. Something which it had been sorely lacking for over well over eighteen years.
As he watched his son train, it got him thinking about just how much alike they were. Aside from their obvious troubled pasts, they were both serious, determined, focused, and justice-oriented people. As much as Bruce wanted to protect him from everything, he knew that if he did he would be stopping his son from getting a chance to grow. Every time Dick got hurt, his heart stopped. Every time he got seriously injured, Bruce considered taking him out of the hero game. But every time he brought a criminal to justice, Bruce saw a little more of himself in his son. The pride that swelled up inside him every time it happened always made him wonder if he was going to suffocate, but he never did. He couldn't tell Dick to stop crime fighting when all the boy had ever done in the field was excel. He couldn't stop his son from being like him- no matter how much he sometimes wanted to.
The night would prove to be a quiet one for Gotham. All the activity that happened were a few robberies- nothing the police couldn't handle. Instead of a night on patrol, it was a night in. Alfred had even made them snacks. When Bruce officially declared that they could have the night off, Dick had been ecstatic, because it meant spending quality time with his father. Together they went upstairs and watched a movie on the huge flat screen TV. Alfred, who had been watching the pair for some time, smiled. His charge had taken to fatherhood with amazing finesse. He could only smile at the two of them. Neither of them were physically affectionate people to say the least, so when they did hug at the end of the evening, it was a very special thing.
As Dick went to bed that night, he felt extremely peaceful. He had spent time with his father today. Something that he was always looking for. And Bruce had reciprocated his actions. It was a rare sight to see him smile so care-freely. He drifted off into slumber with a smile.
Meanwhile, Bruce laid in bed, wide awake. Rain had long since begun pouring down on Gotham as he tried and failed to shut his thoughts up so that he could sleep. As hard as he tried, it was no use. Sleep would not come to him tonight. He figured that it was because of the lack of criminal activity, but maybe it was instinct, too. Something primal that wouldn't let him go to sleep because of reasons he did not know yet. Still, even in sleep he was incredibly alert. He tried thinking of calm things and eventually went into a very aware form of sleep.
When Dick awoke several hours later in a cold sweat, he was disappointed. He had had such a nice day with his father. Why did the nightmares have to follow him? He looked around the dark room and pulled the blankets tighter around him. He shouldn't be frightened right now, and yet he was. He looked at the door. Was Bruce still awake? He hoped so. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and made his way down the long hallway. Wayne Manor was particularly creepy at night. The halls were lined with painted faces that had eyes that seemed to follow his every move. The wooden floors made creaking noises and the doors sometimes made squeaking sounds when they opened. He was sure that he didn't like it.
Finally, he stood outside Bruce's door. It was open ever so slightly, giving him a glimpse at his father sleeping under the sheets. At once he felt guilty. He didn't want to wake his mentor with his silly problem. Then again, maybe he wouldn't have to. He quietly climbed up on the other side of the ridiculously large bed and covered himself with his blanket. Despite his attempts to be quiet, the slight motion of the bed was enough to bring Bruce out of his sleep. His eyes snapped open.
"Dick?" He registered the boy instantly. Dick bit his lip.
"Yeah." Bruce's features softened. Dick fidgeted with his blanket. "I had a nightmare."
Bruce opened his arms and Dick didn't hesitate to crawl into them. He felt hot tears come down his cheeks as his chest shook with the severity of his sobs. Bruce rubbed circles on his back.
"It's okay to cry, Dick. It's okay to acknowledge that it hurts." Dick nodded. Bruce didn't want him to feel ashamed because he cried. There were nights when even he cried over what he had lost. Not that he would tell anyone about that, of course.
"I miss them."
Bruce could only sigh in return. "I know."
"But I'm glad, too. I think they're happy I have you. I'm really lucky. Because I have two dads now."
Bruce thought his heart might burst in his chest.
"I love you, Dad." Came the sleepy statement. Bruce smiled and tucked his son into bed.
"I love you too, son."