The subtitle for this is: The Time I Write a Bunch of Fluff Out of Spite After Tumblr Decided to Flood My Dash With Pictures of Certain Events From DC vs. Vampires

(no spoilers for the comics, promise, considering I haven't read them)


Father's Day

Frowning, Bruce stared up at the ballroom's antique chandelier.

"That chandelier is nearly three hundred years old," Alfred tisked.

"Well, this is why we had all the chandeliers reinforced."

He gave the younger man a look.

"I used to hide up there all the time at that age and you never had a problem with it."

He raised an eyebrow. "As a bat. You weighed four grams. He weighs sixty pounds."

Bruce opened his mouth.

"You also had wings capable of gliding. He does not."

"But he has been trained for taller heights. He got up there didn't he?" Alfred narrowed his eyes and Bruce sighed, "I'll talk to him."

"See that you do," the older man said with a nod and walked off.

Bruce walked beneath the chandelier and stared up at the curled-up form of his ward through the twisted metal. "Hey, chum. Could you come down now?"

Dick scrubbed his face then looked down. "Do I have to?"

"Unfortunately, I think Alfred will make me get a ladder if you don't."

"Cool."

"Oh yeah? Well, if you think so, then I guess I'll have to go find the ladder. Hopefully the ice cream I picked up on my way home won't have melted before I get you down."

Crossing his arms, he said, "You would have put it in the freezer."

"Do you think I would have remembered?"

"… Alfred would have put it in the freezer."

"Not if he didn't want us to eat it."

Dick's nose scrunched up then he stretched out, groaning for a solid thirty seconds. With that bit of dramatics over, he rolled over and leaped off the chandelier. He bounced off one of the columns, then the floor, losing the momentum in a handful of rolls that had him popping up next to Bruce. He grabbed the man's hand and started leading him towards the kitchen.

Bruce waited until they were halfway through their bowls of dessert (turrón ice cream for Dick and sanguinaccio dolce for Bruce) before speaking up. "Alfred said you didn't hang out with Barbara after camp today."

Dick shrugged. "Yeah."

"Is something wrong?"

He shrugged again.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Can I skip camp tomorrow?"

Bruce looked him over. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No."

"Well, I won't make you go if you don't want to, but I thought you liked camp."

Dick had been the one to ask to sign up for the Gotham Public Library's Summer Day Camp, though Bruce had agreed easily. The parenting books he'd studied said socializing was important for kids and the camp seemed perfect for that now that school was out. It wouldn't have big crowds, something Dick couldn't stand when he wasn't performing; some of Dick's friends from school had signed up so there were familiar faces; it was only four days a week and four hours long, so Dick wouldn't get restless like he often did at school; and Barbara was volunteering at the camp so the two usually hung out together afterward, either in town or in the cave.

Today was the first day Dick hadn't come home with a project to show off and/or a story to tell.

"I do, I just…" he tapped his spoon against his bowl for a moment. "Tomorrow's Father's Day."

"Oh."

This would be the first Father's Day since Dick's parents passed. Bruce knew from experience how that could hurt, especially when surrounded by people excited to spend time with their fathers. They'd gotten lucky and been out of the country for the week before and after Mother's Day, but now…

"We're supposed to make cards for our dads, but… I don't have anyone to give one to."

Bruce wrapped his arm around Dick as he tried to think of what to say. "I'm sorry, chum. Um, if you do want to make a card, we could take it to the cemetery so you can leave it on his grave. Or you can just stay home. Whatever you want to do."

"… Can I make the card here instead of going to camp?"

"Of course. Do you need me to get you any supplies?"

"No." He leaned into the half-hug. "Thanks, B."

"Anytime."


Not Me

"Frick!"

"What's wrong, Little Wing?"

Jason turned to scowl at the older boy standing at the edge of the mats he was laying on. "Nothing. Get lost."

Dick frowned and flopped down next to Jason. "Come on. What's wrong? You were doing really well."

"Not as good as you." He only realized he'd spoken aloud when he got crushed in a hug. "Hey! Get off you octopus!"

"You don't need to measure yourself against me. I've been doing this since I could walk. Maybe even before, if you believe the stories my dad used to tell. It'd take years for you to catch up to where I am."

Jason pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, going limp in Dick's arms.

"Hey, it's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. You're still doing better than most would after just a month of training."

"It's going to be years before I'm good enough for Robin."

"Oh, bud, no." Dick pulled his hands away so he could see the older boy's frown. "You don't need to be me to be Robin. I didn't offer it to you because I thought you'd be just like me. We've got different pasts, different styles of moving, different builds. And that's fine, because I chose you because you're smart and stubborn and brave and resourceful and motivated. That's what will make you a good Robin, not being able to do the same flips I can do. You're going to be a great Robin because you're going to be your Robin."

Jason stared at Dick. "You're shitting me."

"I'm not. Make Robin your own, Little Wing. I know you'll be great at it."

He pressed into the hug to hide his blush. "Yeah, whatever. You'll still help me with the flips though, right?"

"Of course. Anything for my cute little baby brother."

He groaned and shoved the annoyance's face away. "You're the worst! Get off me!"

Snickering, Dick pressed a kiss to his head and rolled away.


Family

Damian growled as he found himself pinned to the table, his daggers scattered across the floor (and embedded in the walls, tables, and chairs) alongside the remains of lunch and the broken scraps of the chair he'd thrown at Grayson.

Said man waited until he stopped struggling before saying, "Enough, kid. Listen. Whatever blood you might share with B, you're still the outsider right now. We might not all be blood, but we are family. And our family sticks together no matter what. You want to impress your father, then the first step is getting that through your head."

"So I need to learn my place?" Damian snorted, rolling his eyes.

His place had always been at the top and it always would be. No strays were going to change that.

He turned his head to glare up at the man, ready to tell him exactly where his place was, but was caught off guard. Grayson didn't look smug like he assumed. He looked sad.

"No, kid. You need to learn that we're not your enemies. We're your allies. I know that's probably hard to grasp with the way you were raised, but it's true. We want to help you, to be there for you. You don't have to let us, but you need to stop fighting us."

Damian stared up at him for a moment then tugged his pinned wrist. "Some ally."

Grayson did smile then, but it was soft instead of smug. The same soft one he's been giving Damian since he'd first come to stay with Father. He let go of Damian, jumping back in the same motion like he was expecting an attack.

Smart.

"Well, it seemed like the only way I could get you to listen. Maybe next time we can just sit at the table like a normal family. I'd certainly prefer it."

"As would I," came the butler's voice and the two turned to see him giving them an annoyed look. "I do hope the two of you plan on cleaning up after yourselves."

"We'll take care of it, Alfred," Grayson promised.

"Very good."

Damian snorted and gathered his daggers. As he walked out of the room, he prepared himself for Grayson to try to stop him.

The man let him go without a word.

Damian paused a few steps away from the door and listened, but all he heard was Grayson cleaning up their mess.

He tried to put Grayson's words out of his mind, but they stuck with him.

And when his mother came for him, those words echoed in his mind.

He told her he wanted to stay. He said it was because he believed there were things Father could teach him that he couldn't learn while helping her rebuild the League. He knew she assumed he meant about fighting, strategy, the business, or something along those lines.

He let her.

He knew he could never admit that he wanted Father (as well as Grayson and the others) to teach him about their family.


Stuck

Dick groaned when he heard something scratching at his bedroom door. Between a late patrol (he'd gotten word of a weapons deal just as he'd been about to call off for the night), the drive to Gotham to keep an eye on the kids while the adults were out of the country (Bruce had a case, Selina a heist, and Alfred a family reunion), and the prank he'd needed to pull on Jason (his eldest-younger brother had put glitter in his shampoo, so he had no other choice than to rearrange Jason's bookshelves), he'd just laid down.

He took a moment to wish for his own bed in his apartment, which was likely empty by this time, but at least would still hold some of his partners' warmth and would be blissfully quiet.

Then there was another scratch at his door.

Sighing, he rolled onto his feet and went to the door. He opened it, expecting to see Titus wanting a new bed to sleep in with Damian getting ready for school. Instead, he found a dog bulkier and slightly shorter than the Great Dane with large, rounded ears and a golden yellow coat covered in splashes of black and white. The Cape wild dog's head was turned down guiltily.

"Hey, Duke," Dick said, fighting down a smile. "I'm guessing you slept through your sunrise alarm?"

Duke whined.

Dick lost the fight as he knelt to run his fingers through his brother's mane. "It's okay, bud. We've all done it. I'll text Harper and Bette to let them know what happened. Do you have a daytime class today?"

Duke shook his head.

"Alright," he yawned. "Did you need anything else?"

Duke bumped his head into Dick's chest and yawned back.

Chuckling, he stood up. "Alright. Come on, then."

The two climbed onto Dick's bed and Dick sent the texts before cuddling up to his little brother. He smiled when Duke licked his chin and ruffled the dog's fur. "Your welcome, Flashlight. I'm here to help. Now go to sleep. We're not all on the day shift."

Duke huffed and licked him again.


Boyfriend

"Can you please stop them?"

Dick followed Tim's gaze to see Duke, Jason, and Stephanie looming over a nervous-looking Bernard. "Yeah, no."

"Dick!"

"Tim!"

"Come on."

"It's their job as big brothers - and self-identifying crazy ex - to intimidate your boyfriend."

"I'm a year older than Duke," Tim said, glaring at Dick.

"Yeah, but you're smaller. Balances out."

"You're shorter than him too!"

"We're not talking about me. We're talking about you and your fledgling beau."

Tim groaned and knocked their shoulders together. "Why aren't you over there, then?"

"Simple. They're playing the protective older siblings so I have to be the embarrassing older sibling."

Tim's eyes narrowed to slits. "You wouldn't dare."

"Do you remember when we went to that chalet and -"

"Let me stop you right there. You're not talking about that."

"I have pictures."

"So do I. And I can and will release them to the public."

"You forget, Tiny Jay," Dick whispered, leaning closer. "I have no shame."

Tim's face went pale. "Don't do this, Dick. I'll… I'll…"

"Hey, just be glad B's out of town. Remember what Brucie did the first time Kate brought Renee to dinner. Imagine him in dad mode."

Tim groaned and pressed his face into Dick's shoulder. "Please, Dick. I'll swap patrols with you the next time you want a date night. I'll trade three cases with you, no questions asked. I'll -"

"Sorry," Dick said, patting him on the head mockingly. "It's gotta be done."

Tim's grumbling cut off as a massive Siberian tiger knocked into them, the two only keeping their feet due to their training. The feline pressed against Tim, his head low with his teeth bared and his nose wrinkled. His ears were laid back and his tail was low and twitching as he gave a quiet, cough-like roar.

"Careful, Bernard, you're heavy like this, remember?" Tim whispered to him and ran his fingers through his neck fur before glaring at Duke, Jason, and Stephanie. "What did you three say to him to freak him out like this?"

Duke gave him a shrug, while the other two ignored him in favor of their laughter.

Cheshire grin in place, Dick gave Bernard a pat on the head. "Hey, Bernard. Want to hear about the time Tim tried to -"

Tim tackled him and the two started wrestling.

He continued his story as if nothing was happening. It was his duty, after all.


Father's Day (Reprise)

Bruce grunted as his oldest skipped into his study.

"Hello to you too, B," Dick said, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"How was dinner with the Wests?"

"Good, but not very filling," was all the warning Bruce got before Dick stole his World's Okayest Dad mug off the desk.

"You could have asked Alfred for your own."

He took a long, pointed sip of blood then dropped a box in Bruce's lap and skipped out of the room. "Happy Father's Day!"

"It's not Father's Day for two more hours," he called back, to no response. He looked over the box.

It was a simple brown box, a six-inch cube, held closed with twine. A note was tucked into the top, which he pulled out and unfolded to find a picture very similar to the one he'd found sitting on his desk twenty years earlier on Dick's first Father's Day with him. Instead of holding Robin's hand, though, Batman had his hand on Nightwing's shoulder. The first picture had had the words Happy Father's Day! Thank you for taking me in! Love you, B! written above it. Above this one we're the words Happy Father's Day! Thank you for taking me in! Love you, Dad!

He carefully set the picture aside with a smile, planning to hang it next to its twin as he opened the box. Inside was a mug proclaiming him World's Okayest Grandpa. He rolled his eyes at the jab at his age and pulled the neatly folded paper out of the mug's cup.

"… Richard John Grayson-West!" he choked out, racing out after his son.


Midnight Snack

Carrie stared at Dick for a solid minute before accepting that yes, there was someone sitting at the kitchen counter. "What are you doing here?"

"Artemis says we're not allowed back in the apartment until she's done painting the nursery," he yawned. "Wally left to spend some time with Iris and the twins so I'm grabbing a snack before hitting the hay. What are you doing up? Didn't you just get back from patrol…" he trailed off, staring at the clock.

She grabbed a frozen blood cup and sat down next to him. "Midnight snack."

"Three hours ago." He blinked. "It's four in the morning."

"Details. You didn't drive here, right?"

"Wally dropped me off."

"That's good." She looked over to see what he was eating and frowned when she saw his bowl was full of brightly colored cereal. "Aren't you a little old to be eating that?"

"Aren't you a little young to be telling me what to do?" he muttered, eating another spoonful.

"Trix are for kids."

"Trix are for the people with the money to buy them."

"You don't even have any milk."

"Tastes better this way."

"You're a heathen."

He ruffled her hair, smiling when she hissed and smacked his arm.

They ate in silence for a few moments before she asked, "You guys have any ideas on names? And might I suggest Carrie if they're a girl."

He snorted and shook his head. "We're still tossing around names, but Artemis has been vetoing any names too close to people we know. She's sick of all the Artemis-or-Artemis jokes, apparently."

"Boo."

"Yeah, Wally feels the same. He's managed to sneak Iris's name on the list by shortening it to Irey, but his suggestion of Jai has been thoroughly denied."

"No play on Bartholomew?"

"No." He tried to get another spoonful of cereal, then frowned at his empty bowl. Slowly, he stood up and walked around the counter to the sink. He rinsed his dishes and gestured for Carrie's after realizing she was done too. Once the dishes were in the sanitizer, he came back around the counter to pick her up. "Bedtime."

"You're not going to run me into a wall, are you?" she teased.

He set her down. "You can walk."

"No! Dick!" She made grabby hands as she followed him out.

He ignored her at first, but soon let her up onto his back. They made their way up to her room, where Dick flipped her over his shoulder.

She hit the bed with a giggling, "Oomph!"

"Night, Care Bear."

"Night, Dick."


Fun story: I actually had to change Tim's part. My first idea had ended up needing a bit of context so I scrapped it when I realized I couldn't get it done without his part being significantly longer than the others (even Bruce). I did save what I already have written, though, so I might finish it and post it as a separate thing. (Hint: it takes place not long before what I used instead for Tim)