DISCLAIMER: I don't own Batman/Nightwing/Red Hood and it's characters.
Dick woke up to the feeling that something was wrong. He scanned his bedroom, but nothing was amiss. It wasn't until he got up and noticed that the floor was closer, like a lot closer than usual, that he realized what the wrongness was about.
He closed his eyes, counted to ten and opened them again. He pinched himself. Yep. Still wrong.
Well. Who would have thought? It looked like his dream was actually for real.
Dick smirked down his body. His childlike body. The boxers he was sleeping in pooled around his ankles. He kicked them aside for the time being and took a few steps, testing his movements. His balance was slightly off by being suddenly a lot smaller and lighter, but overall there was not too much of a change.
He eyed critically the boxers on the floor. He had to find some clothes. With that purpose in mind he walked to his closet, opened it and stared for a few seconds. Then hung his head with a groan. Why did he decide to clean his apartment the day before and hang all of his shirts, normally strewn around the room? After a few minutes of futile tugging and three damaged shirts he gave up and wandered to the bathroom in search of his laundry. Surely there had to be something in the laundry basket for him to wear until he would get something more fitting to his new size.
It took him a moment to win against the basket. That thing was too big and heavy for his small body and Dick regretted postponing the laundry for another day. A few minutes later he decided on the faded blue t-shirt, that ended past his knees. Still, it was irritating that the collar was constantly slipping from his shoulder, if not the right then the left. On any kind of pants he gave up entirely, as there was no way he could keep them up on his narrow waist.
The problem was, there was no way he could get out of his apartment wearing just only his shirt. That invited all kinds of trouble and had the real possibility of him ending at the police station and then in child service's care. Definitely not something he wanted on his birthday. Not to mention he could barely reach the lock on the front door. Dammit, couldn't he be a little taller?
He needed help, Dick decided, padding back to his bedroom. He climbed on the bed, took this phone from the nightstand and paused. Who to call? All of his family was in Gotham, most likely at the manor preparing the party for him. It would be inconvenient for one of them to come all the way to Blüdhaven just to pick him up. Especially since he insisted he was perfectly capable of getting to the manor by himself, thank you very much.
Well, almost all of his family. Apparently Red Hood showed up somewhere in the city last night. Dick didn't meet him himself, but he heard the rumors.
Ha! It was perfect. Two birds with one stone. He'll get help and a ride to Gotham and Jason wouldn't have any excuses to not go to the party since he would already be there.
"Jay it is," he said out loud and startled. That was his voice? All high and squeaky? "No way!" Yep, his new childlike voice. There was no way he was making a call sounding like that. Jason wouldn't take him seriously.
He opened the message and typed with some difficulty. He needed to relearn using most things it seemed.
My apartment. Need some help, please. Preferably sooner rather than later. Love ya! - DG-N
There. It was vague and casual enough to get Jason interested without sending him into panic.
Now he had to wait.
Five minutes later Dick was dying of boredom. He jumped from the bed, phone in hand and padded to the living room. He climbed on the couch and reached for remote. He choose some cartoons to watch. That bought him another twenty minutes or so before he gave up on channel surfing. Now he was not only bored but hungry too. He sat on the couch impatiently for another five minutes in the hopes of Jason turning up. Finally he gave in to the hunger and wandered to the kitchen.
Dick stopped at the entrance, put his hand on his hips and surveyed the area pursuing his lips. He didn't do groceries since he was heading to the manor and would bring a mountain of home cooked meals Alfred would force him to take. For the same reason he emptied his fridge the day before only leaving some things for dinner and milk for cereal for breakfast. A cereal, which was on the top shelf in the top cupboard. Well out of his current reach.
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply and decided to get the milk first. He walked to the fridge and tugged at the handle. The door didn't budge. He tugged harder, but the door stayed stubbornly closed. Just his luck, that the door to his fridge decided to adhere* with more force than usual. Grumbling under his nose Dick put his feet on the freezer for support making himself hang from his fridge like a monkey and pulled with all his might. The door burst open and Dick landed on his rear painfully. He winced and got up, massaging the pain away. At least taking out the milk was easy.
But actually getting to the milk? Not so much.
Dick vowed to himself to always buy milk in carton as he tried all he could think of to open the cap on the bottle. He finally given up as he felt frustrated tears prickling at his eyes. He was not going to cry like a baby, dammit! He was an adult!
With a growl he slammed the bottle on the counter and climbed on it himself. He eyed his knife rack. He knew he shouldn't. It was stupid and dangerous, but he was way past caring. He was hungry and angry and there was no one to help him. He selected one of the smaller knives and checked his hold on it. When he was sure, the knife wouldn't slip from his fingers he stabbed at the bottle. Yeah, he should aim higher than the middle, Dick realized as the milk spilled from the hole he had made and started to pool on the counter and dripping on the floor. With a sigh he reached for the glass and tried to save as much as he could.
With that done, came the time for cereal.
Dick carefully opened the cupboard over his head and reached for the top shelf. He managed to get the bowl with no problems, but he couldn't reach the box in the back of the shelf. He shifted from his knees to his feet, knocking the glass in the process. The milk spilled all over his feet and the glass rolled off the counter to shatter on the floor. Dick gritted his teeth and reached for the cereal. He managed to get a hold on the box, but it was slipping, so he stood on his toes to get this little bit of reach to get a better grasp on his hard earned breakfast. Unfortunately he slipped on the wet counter. He barely managed to save himself from hitting his head on the cupboard with his other hand before he tipped all the way back and fell down towards the floor covered in glass shards.
* I checked several dictionaries and this was the word I think was the best, but if not just let me know which one should be instead :)