Robin:
"Come on Bruce! It's just a little gunshot wound! I'll be careful next time!" Dick pleaded.
"There won't be a next time." Bruce told him quietly yet sternly, gently swirling the contents of his tea cup as he sat on his large armchair by the fireplace.
"What do you mean?" Dick asked, fearing his foster father's words meant what he thought they did.
"You can't even raise your left arm without wincing Dick- I'm sure you know exactly what I mean." Bruce replied, his eyes staring at the flames.
"Ya well good thing I'm right-handed huh?" Dick joked weakly trying to lighten the mood in the dimly lit living room.
"Bruce, come on … you trained me for this. Don't you trust me anymore?!" Dick started getting restless.
"Alfred! Tell him please."
Dick begged the butler who was busy wiping the dust off of the decorations, but Alfred simply shook his head his dejectedly. He knew, more than anyone, that Bruce's word was final- nobody could convince him to change his mind.
Bruce's word was final.
"I'm doing this for your own good kid, you don't know what The Joker is capable of. You could've been killed!" Bruce finally stood up from his armchair and faced the boy.
"I said I'll be careful next time." He confidently said.
"This beef between me and him, it's been between our families for a long time. I'd rather have you focus on living like a normal teenager than getting involved in mafia life."
"You didn't have a problem getting me involved in the mafia life when I was younger."
"That was just to catch Zucco and bring him to justice for killing your parents, that's it! Back then I saw potential in you and thought maybe- maybe, you could help out. But I can't risk you being injured like this again.
Those guys don't care if you're young or old. They'll take you down if you stood in their way. Either you do as I say or you leave my house."