dad (this could be the best day of my life)

The first time Dick calls him Dad, he almost doesn't notice. It's three am and Bruce had collapsed in bed only ten minutes prior, exhausted from tracking Clayface across Gotham and putting him back into police custody. If he hadn't been a vigilante for as long as he has, Bruce would have thought it impossible for it to feel like his aches had aches. Dick sneaks into his room and pokes his side. Bruce groans, opens his eyes, and blinks blearily at his child, "Dick, what's wrong?" Bruce sleepily murmurs.

"Can I sleep with you?" At Bruce's nod, Dick climbs into the bed and snuggles in next to the larger male. Dick arranges Zitka in between them.

Bruce pets Dick's hair for a brief moment before he wraps his arms around the child, "Nightmare?"

Dick nods, "It was horrible!" he wails, "I was back at the Court and they made me kill you, Dad! I don't wanna kill you or anyone," Dick sniffles and presses his face into Bruce's chest. "I don't wanna go back to the Grandmaster! Daddy, don't let me go back there," Dick hiccups as he continues to cry.

"Oh, sweetheart," Bruce coos as he pulls Dick closer and begins petting his son's hair once more, "If I have it my way, you'll never go back there; you'll stay here by my side," Bruce presses a kiss into Dick's hair, "I love you, Dickiebird."

After another few minutes, Dick calms down and sleepily replies, "I love you too, Dad," Dick clutches a fistful of Bruce's sleepshirt in one hand and Zitka in the other.

Bruce starts up a lullaby, half-forgotten from his own childhood, and eventually, Dick closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. Bruce keeps singing for a few minutes longer. Bruce dopily grins to himself, "He called me dad," he whispers and presses another kiss into his child's unruly hair before he too drifts off to sleep.

Waking the next morning is a slow process. Bruce glances at the alarm clock to see that it was eight am and he groans to himself, "Too early."

"Mmph," Dick groans, "What time is it?"

"Eight am, go back to sleep," Bruce requests, already knowing it was a futile wish.

"Noooo," Dick whines and impatiently pushes at Bruce's chest, "It's time for food, Dad!"

"We can get food later," Bruce burrs.

"Oh!" Dick sits straight up in the bed and his face starts to turn red, "I called you Dad."

Bruce raises a single eyebrow, still half asleep, "Mmhmm?"

"Is...is that alright?" Dick hesitantly asks.

Hearing the hesitant tone in Dick's voice, Bruce sits up and gives his full attention to his child. "Of course, sweetheart." Dick still looks uncertain so Bruce continues, "Richard, I'm honored that you feel comfortable enough around me to call me dad."

"I've been calling you that in my head since you rescued me from the Court but I…" Dick looks down at his lap and fiddles with his hands.

Bruce pulls Dick into a hug, "I love you kiddo and after about a month of you living here, I already considered you my son. You're my son and you always will be, it doesn't matter that it's not biological."

"I love you too, Dad," Dick squeezes Bruce once more before pulling away and jumping out of the bed. "But, it's time for breakfast! C'mon!" Dick runs out of the room, his bare feet slapping the floor and Zitka hanging from his right hand.

"Where does he get all this energy?" Bruce groans to himself before he rolls out of bed, slips on his slippers and heads down to the kitchen at a much more sedate pace. When he arrives in the kitchen, Dick is already buried in his meal. "Good morning, Alfred." Bruce greets as he settles in the chair next to Dick at the island.

Alfred smiles fondly at his ward in reply. Dick pokes Bruce in the shoulder, "Dad, can we go see Ma and Pa for the Fourth of July? Alfie said Uncle Clark called this morning and offered."

"I don't see why not," Bruce replies.

Dick cheers and jumps off his seat, "I'm gonna go call Clark and let him know!" Dick takes off for the entry hall phone before Bruce can scold him into finishing his breakfast.

Alfred sits down in the chair across from Bruce, his own breakfast in hand. The older man gives Bruce another small smile, "A new development?"

Bruce doesn't bother to hide his grin, "Last night." Alfred reaches over and pats Bruce's hand, his fond affection writ clear across his face.

The quiet moment is ruined when Dick squeals from the other room, "Daaaad! Clark said he could fly us out this afternoon so we could spend a few days with them! He's off work so he'll be there too!"

Bruce shakes his head ruefully, "Never a quiet moment," Bruce stands and walks into the entry hall and steals the phone from his son, "Go get packed while I work out the details with Clark." Dick gives Bruce a sloppy salute before rushing up the stairs.

"So, he's calling you dad now, huh?" Clark's amusement is clear as day.

Bruce sounds unbearably fond when he replies, "It's a new development."

"Fatherhood looks good on you, Bruce."

"Shut up, Kent," Bruce gruffly replies. "Dick says you'll fly us out?"

"No reason for you to bother with a jet and then renting a car to drive out to the farm when I can fly you there just as easily. Is Alfred coming?"

"No," Bruce shakes his head, "Fourth of July is Alfred's annual holiday to England. He'll be happy to know that Dick and I are somewhere where I won't be allowed to cook. Or attempt to cook, as it is."

"Ma doesn't even let me in her kitchen unless it's to teach me the finer arts. It's useless to argue. I'll come by in an hour?"

Bruce grunts, "Should be long enough to pack. On the dot, Kent."

Clark laughs, "I'll see you then."

After the phone clicks off, Bruce pops back into the kitchen, "Clark will be by in an hour to collect Dick and me."

Alfred smiles, "Then I have some packing of my own to do. The ticket is already purchased."

"You and Clark planned this," Bruce levels at him accusingly.

Alfred gives Bruce a sly smile, "Why, Master Bruce, whatever gave you that idea? Now, shoo, you have a suitcase to pack and a child to subdue."

Bruce shakes his head with a fond smile playing at his lips and grumbles good-naturedly as he heads to his room. An hour later Dick is giving Alfred a hug good-bye and then is swept up by Clark. Soon enough Dick, Clark, and Bruce are walking up the steps and into the Kent house. "Ma, Pa, we're here!"

Martha and Jonathan Kent come clattering down the porch steps to meet their guests. Dick rushes up to them and happily allows Martha to sweep him into a hug. "It's so nice to see you!" Dick gushes.

Martha coos, "Oh honey, it's been too long! And look at you! Jon, I dare say he's grown a foot since the last time I saw him."

Dick giggles, "I'm not that big yet!"

"I don't know, Marty, I'd say you're about right," Jonathan winks at his wife when Dick lets out a good-natured whine and attaches himself to Jonathan's leg. He stoops down and gives Dick a hug of his own. "Now, how about you come help me with the chickens?" Dick nods enthusiastically and grabs Jonathan's hand when he offers it.

"You and Dick are in Clark's room. Sweetie, you're on the pullout," Martha tells the two men as they head inside. Martha smacks Bruce with a tea towel when she spots the smirk he shoots toward Clark. "Like a coupla little boys, you two are!"

"He brings out the worst in me," Bruce laughs when Clark gives him a little push at the playful insult.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Bruce."

The pair dissolve into good-natured bickering as they move into the living room. Martha joins the pair and pulls out an old photo album, "Now," she smiles at Bruce, "I believe I promised to show you Clark's baby book the last time you were out here."

Bruce gleefully takes the book, "As long as you tell me the stories that accompany every photo."

Martha sends her son a wicked grin and promises, "As many as I can remember."

Clark groans, "I almost regret letting the two of you meet each other. You're always conspiring against me."

"Honey, it's character building," Martha pats her son's chest with a fond chuckle. Clark snorts but allows the two to open the book and start gossiping about him. Clark watches them with a dopey smile on his face.

Forty-five minutes pass before Dick comes clattering into the living room with Jonathan on his heels. "Dad! Dad! Pa said we could go fishing! You'll go fishing with us, right?" Bruce lifts the photo album and passes it over to Martha just seconds before Dick crashes into his lap, "Right, Dad?"

"Of course I will, chum," Bruce smiles as he brushes some leaves out of Dick's hair.

Dick pumps his arms and Bruce nearly gets a fist to the nose, just barely dodging the flying appendage. "Yes, you're the best!" Dick loops his arms around Bruce's neck for a brief hug before he jumps up and tugs at Clark's arm, "C'mon, let's go get the stuff ready!"

Clark beams at Dick and clambers out of his chair, "Alright, alright. We'll go get the stuff while Bruce changes into something a little more befitting a fishing trip," Clark turns toward the other man, "You know where my spare clothes are, city boy."

"Hush, farm boy," Bruce rolls his eyes. Clark sticks his tongue out and follows Dick out to the shed to dig out the fishing equipment.

Martha and Jonathan grin at Bruce. "So," Martha begins, "he's calling you dad now."

Bruce looks incredibly pleased as he replies, "It's a new development, but, yes."

"It suits you," Jonathan replies and Bruce somehow looks even more pleased at the praise. Martha nods her agreement.

"Daaaaad! Hurry up!" Dick calls from outside.

Bruce chuckles, "Better hurry up or I'll be left behind," he hustles up the stairs.

As soon as he's out of sight, Jonathan turns toward his wife, "Remember that young man Clark brought home all those years ago?"

Martha nods and looks towards the stairs with fondness, "Oh, yes indeed. He's turned into quite a fine man and he's raising the sweetest grandbaby I could ask for."

"Now, Marty…" Jonathan tries to scold but is betrayed by his grin.

"Oh, hush, Jon. No matter if those two boys get their act together or not, we have a wonderful grandchild and two wonderful sons."

Bruce comes down the stairs and looks over at Jonathan, "Are you coming fishing with us?"

"Nah," Jonathan shrugs, "I think I'll let you boys go on your own. Clark knows the good fishing pond is out in the field near the hedgerow. Someone's gotta keep Marty out of trouble." Jonathan yelps when Martha smacks Jonathan's thigh.

Bruce nods and heads outside. Jonathan and Martha walk him to the door and the pair watches as Bruce is attacked by an overeager child and almost crushed under the weight of Clark's shoulder slap. They continue to watch as the trio heads out towards the back forty, Dick rushing out ahead of the pair one minute and then skipping back before repeating the cycle. They also watch as Bruce and Clark continuously brush their hands together before Dick inserts himself inbetween the pair and grabs their hands. Bruce and Clark share a look before they start swinging Dick in the air every few steps. Jonathan and Martha grin at each other when they hear three voices ringing with laughter.

Jonathan puts his arm around Martha's waist, "We've got a good little family going here."

Martha leans her head against Jonathan's shoulder and agrees, "The best."