TIMELINE: Tim is Robin and Jason is still dead.

Trash Bags

By: Cas

"He's dead." Batman was crouched in the snow beside the John Doe, his face stoic. A few feet behind him Nightwing stood, arms crossed and silent. The two shared the back alley with three other men, all of which were gagged and bound. "Looks like the bullet went through and collapsed his lung and tore into his heart. Aorta and pulmonary arteries … It was quick." At this he jerked his head around to glare at the masked twenty two year old. Nightwing shifted his weight in reply, looking just as angry as his mentor. The tension between them was thick, but neither seemed eager to begin a conversation.

Sirens were drawing closer.

"I'll talk to the police. Go wait at the car." Batman finally snapped as he drew to his full height.

"I'll wait with -."

"I don't want you here," was the snarled reply. "I want you in the car."

Snow was starting to flutter down for the third time that night. The clouds in the sky managing to make things slightly warmer than a clear sky night, but it was still well cold. The tiny huffs of air leaving Nightwing's mouth seemed to pick up a bit, but once again he remained silent. Standing his ground.

The Batman observed him and then walked past the young adult, headed to the arriving police cars and ambulance. He didn't waste anytime finding a cop he knew and begin to quickly explain the situation as EMTs and other cops entered the area.

Hanging back, Nightwing took in the scene, watching as the gun shot victim was proclaimed dead for a second time that night. He felt something catch in his throat while his gut gave an unpleasant jolt. "Fuck." There was the sound of a grappling hook being fired, and while he knew that was his cue to follow the Bat, he was oddly frozen. It wasn't till a warm hand rested on his shoulder that he seemed able to move.

Jim Gordon was giving him a sympathetic smile and nodded towards the roof. "Think you better get going, son."

Nightwing nodded once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Son?" The Commissioner sounded concerned. That alone was enough for the vigilante to follow suit and make his way up top, mindlessly working his way to the Batmobile. When he arrived he slipped inside and kept his eyes away from the man in the drivers seat, instead focusing on his seat belt and getting his hands warm.

The two sat in silence for a good minute before the vehicle lunged forward, heading back for the cave. It was nearing seven AM. Nightwing tucked his head against the seat, looking out his window and feeling his exhaustion deep in his bones. His head was swimming from it.

"You lied to me."

When the words finally cut through the silence Dick couldn't help himself from jumping a little. He must have fallen asleep and that alone was concerning. He slowly turned his head to glance at Batman, but his eyes quickly fluttered away. "What?"

"I said you lied to me."

At this point he just wanted to go home. "Oh, for the love of - I didn't lie, Bruce."

"No? You told me you were fine. You said you understood the parameters."

Dick let out a sigh and carefully knocked his forehead against the cold window. He didn't feel like arguing. He was fully aware of his mistakes without having Bruce pissed at him. "I assumed, ok? I'm sorry. I feel like shit about the whole thing." He did feel like shit. He was an idiot and perfectly aware that this kind of mistake was dangerous. The mistake being the kind where you assume your perp only has one gun without fact checking to be sure.

He was also aware that Batman had seen the weapon and jerked his partner out of the bullets trajectory just in time, allowing it to whiz straight past and into the John Doe behind them. This had also been a mistake, because if hit, Nightwing would have a fucked up shoulder and the civilian would possibly be alive.

The silence between them was heavy as it stretched.

"You should have let me get hit."

"Yes, I'm fully aware."

Dick carefully pried off his mask, trying not to wince. Part of him wanted to rub in his mentors mistake. It was clear Batman had reacted and not thought. "What happened?"

"I trusted you. It was my mistake."

The answer was hurtful. Far more hurtful than Dick had expected. It came at him like a whoosh of freezing cold air sucked down his lungs. Batman had no trouble saying the wrong thing when angry, but this wasn't one of those times. No, he was being painfully honest. He had trusted Dick, and hadn't taken into account that he should be watching for his partners mistakes. So when the bullet fired he hadn't been expecting it and simply reacted, and that reaction had been instinct: keep Dick safe.

Fuck.

Batman seemed to let everything sink in before saying what came next. "A mistake I mean to rectify."

The familiar feeling of pride evaporating and shame coming home was all too familiar, and it disgusted Dick. He felt the childish tug to hate the man making him feel inept, even though it was his own damn fault. "You can trust me. Don't be an ass about it."

They were now roaring into the cave and Dick quickly unbuckled, eager to get out of the confined space he shared with his adopted father. When they came to a stop he made to leap out and rush to his bike, but a strong grip on his upper arm stopped him. He tried to jerk away without turning to face Batman, but it wasn't happening.

"Let go." He tried.

"Shower and we'll talk. Don't run away. You're too old for that."

That stung. Dick felt heat in his cheeks start and he pushed it away. "Fine." He stormed towards the showers and momentarily paused as a smaller figure emerged. It was Tim. He had clearly been training before school and was now clean and dressed for the day.

"Heya, Dick." There was a slow smile. "Good patrol?"

"Great until you left." He replied honestly. He slowed as he approached his little brother.

Tim seemed to be clicking things mentally into place. "You guys fight?" There was a sadness to that question.

"…Nah, not really."

"I think you did."

Dick gave an annoyed look. He loved Tim, but his analytical mind and sense of practicality could make the fourteen year old seem like a downright know-it-all. "You got school, how's about you focus on that?"

A roll of the eyes. "Yes, I have school."

"Don't correct my grammar this early, Timmy."

"Huh? Oh, got vs. have – that wasn't my intention. No, I was just expressing how much I dislike classes."

A voice from the other side of the cave made the two conversing snap to attention. "School, Timothy!"

"Alfred said he'd give me a ride. I won't be late, but yeah – I'm going."

Dick turned his head to glare at the man sitting at the Batcomputer. "One would think you had no parents to tell you what to do, Timmy, but than again Bruce loves to be in charge." He did his best to radiate his dislike, but it seemed the only one affected was Tim.

"Geesh, Dick." The fourteen year old began to head for the stairs. As he passed his older brother he gently pushed a fist into Dick's arm. "Cooler heads prevail, yeah? Talk to you tonight."

"Sure." It really did suck watching Tim leave. It was so much easier when the other boy was around, things weren't nearly so heavy and angry. Dick hated being angry. Normally he was nothing but smiles, but it seemed like he had hit a kind of air pocket with Bruce. The kind where they both were struggling with their perception of each other.

It was hard not to fall asleep in the warm shower. The heat melted into his body and he relaxed with a peaceful sigh. It wasn't till he about fell over that he realized he'd been nodding off. He picked up the pace and rushed to change. He pulled on his black drawstring pants, a plain white tee, and decided on the blue hoodie as well, tugging his hood up over his wet hair.

The sound of voices suddenly floated into the vicinity. Angry voices.

Dick stepped into his untied shoes and crept towards the shower room exit, carefully glancing into the cave. To his surprise he saw Kal-El on the computer screen and Wonder Woman standing a few feet from Batman. The newly arrived JLA members looked pissed while Batman simply looked like he couldn't give a flying fuck.

Oh, this was just what Dick needed. Bruce getting his ass chewed out for once. It was surprising how good that made the twenty two year old feel because he was normally overly defensive if anyone talked shit about his 'dad'. Right now though? Right now this was manna from heaven. He quietly kicked off his shoes and padded into the shadows, creeping towards the conversation.

"You can't make decisions without consulting the team, Bruce!" Kal was saying, perfectly calm and looking almost as tired as Dick felt. "It puts us all at a disadvantage."

Dick slipped behind the Batmobile and carefully pulled himself on top the vantage point, comfortably sitting Indian style. Wonder Woman's back was to him now and his guardian wouldn't see him unless he turned his head to look. The Romani's smile grew and he wished he had popcorn for his viewing experience. This was going to be the best part of his day. All his feelings of ineptitude and being unworthy were shrinking pleasantly. No way Bruce could lecture him about trust now. Hells yeah!

"I have no reason to explain my actions," Batman said calmly.

"You're acting like a child!" Wonder Woman looked fierce and Dick felt a wave of camaraderie for the Amazon warrior. "Are you even capable of working on this team?"

Dick's mistake was made when he unconsciously reached out to scratch his ankle. Bruce didn't move, but all at once it became clear that the man was aware of his position atop the car.

"Bruce, it's simply unacceptable for you to-."

"Dick!" Bruce interrupted, confusing his Justice League teammates. Clark made a face as if processing and Diana clearly took the word to be directed at her until Batman followed up with: "Upstairs, now!"

Comprehension dawned and Wonder Woman surveyed the cave, finding the gypsy's perch. She looked surprised and slightly embarrassed. "You should have told us your child was down here, Bruce."

All good feelings Dick had been storing for the woman were blotted out instantly. He abhorred being referred to as anything less than an adult. He made no motion to leave, his head swimming with anger. "Why? You wanted to talk to me about trust, didn't you? This seems like a nice prerequisite."

Bruce stared for a few seconds than excused himself from the intervention and walked over to the Batmobile. Once there he reached out and snagged a hold on Dick's left ankle, using it to jerk the young mans whole body closer. Dick yelped and quickly made a point to lean further away even though the vice like grip on his ankle had yet to be relinquished. "As good as it makes you feel to listen to others berate me, it in no way excuses what happened tonight. Go upstairs and sleep. You need it."

"We can come back later." Diana offered.

"No. He's going upstairs."

Dick narrowed his eyes. "We're all adults here, I don't see a problem."

"Oh yes, clearly we are all adults." Bruce mocked.

"I'm not the one accused of acting like a toddler by the JLA!" Dick lashed back.

A quiet "oh, god" came from the computer screen where Kal was listening. "We should have done this in the watchtower."

"Listen to your teacher, boy. You weren't meant to witness any of this."

Bruce pulled back his cowl with his free hand and made a point to catch Dick's eye with his own. He didn't say anything at first, but he conveyed enough. Disappointment. Why was it always disappointment? "I'm asking you to go to bed. I'll wake you later to talk." There was an uncomfortable pause, like he was struggling with what needed to be said next. "Hopefully as adults."

"It's never as adults. But fine. Whatever." Dick hissed and reached down to free his ankle, working at Bruce's fingers with his own. When the grip didn't let up he shoved his hood back angrily and lifted his eyes to met his captor's. "What?!"

Bruce gave a small squeeze to the ankle and then let go.

Non verbal communication was shit and Dick refused to read it. He stood and smoothly launched off the car, landing a few feet away from Bruce. He shoved his hands into his hoodie and skulked, shoulders hunched, past the League members. He felt their eyes and drew up his hood, picking up his pace until he was in the safety of the manor. The last thing he wanted to do was take orders from Bruce and sleep, so instead he found his way to the kitchen to eat something.

Clearly Alfred wasn't back yet from bringing Tim to school. That sucked.

He dug through the pantry, finding his cereal and took the whole box and a gallon of milk into the sitting room, flipping on the television. He was grateful his shift wasn't for a few more days, but also aware that those days would be over in a snap. Pulling off his sweatshirt he balled it up and tossed it to the floor, then began to reach into the cereal box and shove handfuls into his mouth, occasionally pausing to gulp down some milk.

His eyelids were sagging but he fought it, violently shaking his head or giving his cheek a firm smack. How long since he last slept? Hmm. It didn't matter. There wasn't a snowballs chance in hell of him staying at the manor longer than necessary. At least not today.

Somehow though, he didn't get what he wanted and awoke to a gentle hand pushing against his forehead, smoothing his hair back. "Hey," Bruce offered.

Dick groaned as he opened his eyes, squinting in confusion. His vision slowly correcting itself as well as his memory. He sat up so fast he almost head butted Bruce who expertly moved out of the way. "Shit!"

"You were asleep. We let you sleep. You needed it." Bruce glanced away. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, in front of Dick's legs. "You don't have work for a few more days still." It was no surprise that he knew Dick's schedule.

The room was dark save a lamp and Dick was caught between wondering how long he'd been out and the painful realization that he needed to piss. He tucked his legs up from behind Bruce and got to his feet, quietly excusing himself as he fumbled to the nearest bathroom. Once finished he washed his hands and caught his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a shit storm.

Fuck it.

Returning to the couch he found Bruce still waiting. Snatching up his phone he read the 2:15 AM and glared. "You turned off my alarm. I didn't want to sleep this long," he accused. "What the hell, Bruce!"

"I didn't turn off your alarm. Alfred did after the second time you slept through it."

Dick tucked a foot underneath him as he sat back down beside the billionaire, staring at his phone screen. He felt a little guilty, but not too much. It wasn't far fetched to assume it had been Bruce. "That's ok then." He heard Bruce sigh and refused to register it. He noticed that while the milk was gone his cereal was still out, though closed up. Reaching out he snagged it the same time his stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Why don't we go get something to eat?" Bruce offered, catching hold of the box.

Dick kept his grip and looked accusingly at his adopted father. "So you can yell at me?"

Another sigh. "Well, if you're worried about that it'd probably be best to take me up on the offer. Not much chance of me yelling in a public place."

This was true and it dawned on the twenty two year old that this was the reason Bruce had offered. So Dick wouldn't yell at him. He released the cereal to Bruce and stood up, grabbing his hoodie from the floor and pulling it on. "Shoes are in the cave."

"Tim has some in one of the entrance hall closets."

"I'm bigger than he is!" Dick snapped, noticing that Bruce was in slacks and a sweater with some fancy coat already on. Apparently this trip had been premeditated.

Bruce seemed bemused. "Yes, I'm aware, but fortunately teenagers grow into their feet. You're both the same size." This turned out to be true and the two adults made their way to the garage. Bruce picked the car and soon they were on their way to the city. Neither spoke but instead listened to some horrible talk radio that the driver seemed to enjoy.

Dick pulled a few faces.

They found a nice, semi-secluded dinner and picked out a table. Their waitress was over joyed at the sight of them and made a point to do a lot of touching which irritated the hell out of Dick. Normally he didn't mind, but his anger with Bruce seemed to throw everything out of perspective. He finally snapped at her: "get your hands off me!"

"Dick!" Bruce admonished.

Dick glared at him and sunk in his seat. "I thought there was a no yelling at each other rule in effect?" The waitress had slipped away at this point and when the food came out it was a dishwasher who delivered it. Dick started to devour the burger and fries, aware that Bruce wasn't eating the piece of apple pie he'd ordered, but rather looking at him. So, when Dick spoke he did it with a full mouth. "What, is this dinner for me and a show for you?"

"Hardly." He still didn't eat. "You are so keen on being treated like an adult yet seem to make a point to childishly provoke me to treat you as anything but."

"I am an adult."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Do you really need confirmation? Yes, Dick, you are an adult."

Dick felt his face flush. "Now you're egging me on! You're talking down to me like I'm a kid."

"You aren't a kid. You're just acting like one and I fail to see how in doing so I'm supposed to respect you."

Oh, this was rich. "So you don't respect me? I get it."

"There you go again," Bruce calmly spoke, "needing confirmation. Yes, most of the time I respect you."

Dick threw down the remainder of his food and shoved the plate away. He was still super hungry but didn't feel like eating right now. Not when he was being verbally attacked. "We're here to talk about last night, right? I want to go home, so let's just get it over with."

Bruce seemed to be taking him in, studying every detail. He finally relented. "Very well. You were overtired last night. When I asked if you were alert enough to continue you assured me you were, because of this someone was …" He glanced around the room. "Someone was injured."

Killed.

"I get it, I fucked up. Ok?" His stomach betrayed him with a loud rumble.

"Please watch your language." Bruce gently pushed his pie towards Dick who angrily shoved it away.

"I'm not hungry!"

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. "Alright. Fine. This isn't going anywhere. Let's both just go home." He got to his feet and moved towards the cash register. Dick, furious, went to the bathroom. He seethed once inside and gripped the sink as to calm himself down. For a second time that night he caught his reflection and saw his hair was still sporting bed head. He cursed Bruce for not saying anything and ran the water making a point to soak his hair completely. It helped him cool down a little. He pulled his hood back up, flipped his reflection off and slammed the door behind him.

People looked up at the noise, but not Bruce who was signing a receipt. Dick went to stand beside him.

"Thanks again." Bruce called to the girl and started for the car, the younger man at his heels. They both strapped in and began their trek back. It was Bruce who spoke first. "I'm sorry if I drive you to be rebellious."

Dick couldn't hide his surprise at that. He forced his attention to the radio and found a channel. Then leaned back in his seat and kicked up a leg to the dashboard. "You're shit with apologies. I'm not being rebellious."

"Ok. Defensive."

This was a sight better than rebellious, so Dick just shrugged. "I constantly feel like I have to defend myself to you. Like no matter what you're going to find a reason to be disappointed in me."

"Is that why you said you were fine last night? To prove yourself?"

That wasn't the case, no, but Dick badly wanted to say it was. If he blamed it on Bruce everything would be so much easier. He struggled to shake his head. "No. I said I was fine because I thought I could handle it. I miscalculated. I knew better than to assume yet did it anyway." Dick felt tears prick in his eyes and blinked them away. "Honestly? I knew there was a chance he'd have another gun but I lazily went with the law of averages."

Bruce went rigid and the car seemed to speed up. "Why?"

"I don't know, ok? There isn't an excuse." Dick could feel his throat constricting. It hurt. He rubbed a hand at his eyes and was grateful he wasn't facing Bruce. "But, I am an adult. I know how to realize mistakes and take action against them. Ok? I don't need my 'dad' swooping in to lecture me."

"I'm not being an overbearing father, Dick, I'm reacting as I would to any adult I work with." He caught Dick's look of utter disbelief. "Ok, maybe not, but this kind of mistake needed reinforced. I'd hope you'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

Yeah, Dick realized he would. "I would, but it wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't order you to wait in the car."

"True."

Dick couldn't help but notice that there was something unsaid there. "You still expect me to obey orders."

"Yes. I do."

"Even though I'm an adult."

Bruce took a deep breath. "I wish you were more respectful of me. That's all. Tonight you sat and enjoyed watching my coworkers feebly attempt to lecture me. You argued with me in front of them, Dick. I realize that you're grown, but you are still my … son." Bruce flinched. "And your lack of respect contributed to their own."

Unbelievable. "So I can never argue with you?"

"Of course you can. We've been arguing all night. I'm just asking for a little respect."

Dick thought about that the rest of the way home. Once back in the warmth of the house he tugged off his hoodie and lazily kicked Tim's shoes in the closet. He followed Bruce into the sitting room and his face broke out into a huge grin at the sight of Tim on the couch. "Timmy!"

His brother was watching tv and lifted a hand in greeting. He was eating the left out box of cereal.

Dick moved to join him but Bruce caught his arm and asked: "Why don't you stay the night?"

"It is Friday night." Tim said, still fixated on the screen.

A slow nod as Dick met Bruce's eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, ok." He felt his arm receive a squeeze before release and realized that the non verbal communication wasn't all shit. He smiled in response. "Join us?"

"Uh. No thanks." And just like that Bruce left the room.

Dick vaulted over the couch and landed beside his brother feeling a whole hell of a lot better. He snatched the cereal from Tim, who made a noise of protest, and simply laughed. "It was mine first. Get your own."

END

1. I hate titles. I'm shit at them. So the first thing I saw was appointed the place of honor.

2. Thanks for reading.