The drive to the hospital was the kind of quiet stressful that seemed to eat away at Dick's brain and drive him closer and closer to insanity and make him drum his fingers on the wheel so hard it hurt them but he got through it. The crowds of people waiting for them in front of the hospital made him want to punch things. Instead he put his hand on Tim's shoulder and steered him towards the hospital doors. Dealing with the hospital staff was exhausting but not because they weren't doing their jobs, just because Dick had been awake for something brutal like twenty nine hours and he was just too tired to have people patiently explain Bruce's condition in condescending, noncommittal medical terms. Waiting in the waiting room, even if it was the nicest waiting room the hospital had to offer, was kind of like the seventh level of hell.
Tim had managed to lift a notepad and a pen from somewhere and he sat next to Dick, enthusiastically scribbling away all morning. After a few minutes Dick realize he was listening to Oracle's reports over the com and taking notes. He moved closer and slipped his arm behind Tim so he could read over the boy's shoulder.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered.
"I know," Tim said back to him, very quietly and without looking up. To anyone who was looking at them they looked like two worried brothers reassuring each other quietly, not two costumed crime fighters trying to understand how this possibly could have happened. "Catwoman wouldn't have had time to cut it, Killer Croc doesn't make sense. There's someone here we're not seeing."
"Yeah," Dick agreed. "Have the Birds found anything?"
"Nothing useful yet," Tim answered. "Huntress brought him in but she didn't see him fall. I don't understand."
"Tm," he said. "We'll figure out who did this and we will make them pay for it."
"I know," he agreed.
The surgery took forever. Dick understood that rebuilding a brain wasn't something anyone could get done in a half hour, but somehow he hadn't realized that this is what would be happening when Babs told him her genius plan. Tim was wearing a watch which Dick checked a few times. The doctor had started about eight in the morning, and by two in the afternoon he'd fallen asleep with his arm still behind Tim. It probably looked affectionate, like they were a real family, as least to anyone who didn't know better.
"Dick?" Tim was asking urgently. He grunted and opened his eyes, sleepily. Tim had his hand in the middle of Dick's chest and he was shaking him, but very carefully Dick noticed since he wasn't in a ton of pain.
"What?" he asked yawning. His arm had fallen off the back of the chair while he slept so it was actually around Tim. Man, it had to have been a rough night for everyone if he'd fallen asleep with Tim in his arms and Tim had let him.
"Mr Grayson?"a nurse was saying. "You're father's out of surgery now You can go to see him."
"Is he awake?" Dick asked, standing up quickly and trying to make himself look a little more respectable, more adult by straightening his jacket and running a hand through his hair, which was a disaster, as usual. "Can we talk to him?"
"It's unlikely," she said. "He'll be out for another twelve hours probably and it's unlikely he'll be able to speak when he wakes up. The neurological damage was so severe we have no idea what his mental state will be when he wakes up. But you're welcome to wait here as long as you like. First room on the left at the end of the hall."
"Thanks," he said. "Come on Tim."
Weirdly it seemed absolutely appropriate and completely necessary for him to drop his hand onto Tim's shoulder to guide him down to the end of the hall. If Tim thought this was weird he didn't say anything. Someone had put a pair of arm chairs in the room. Apparently if your father donates enough to the hospital it is possible to get a comfortable chair in a hospital Dick though dryly as Tim pulled away from him and ran over to the bed.
It was definitely Bruce, but he didn't really look like himself. His head was bandaged from his eyebrows up and he was so pale Dick thought he was dead, just for a second but it made him feel sick. All around Bruce machines beeped in calm, steady rhythms. Tim looked them over quickly before moving away to lean against the bed and inspect Bruce's face. Dick wasn't quite that good at reading the machines but he worked them out eventually.
"Guess he's not waking up for a while," Tim said, sitting down in the chair. Clearly the kid had been spending way too much time with Bruce since he looked so tired Dick wasn't sure he could see straight and he was still standing.
"Probably not," Dick said. "Might as well settle in for some more fun waiting. Remind me not kill Babs the next time we're in the same place okay?"
"Yeah," he agreed. "You think he'll be okay?" He nodded towards Bruce. Dick nodded.
"I promise." He couldn't stop himself from yawning. "Sorry," he said. "I think I need a nap. My head's still pounding from that smashing into a tree thing. You be okay if I doze off?" Tim glared at him and he smiled. "Figured."
He woke up a few hours later. He was stiff but his head wasn't hurting nearly as much as it had. Tim had curled up in the arm chair next to him, finally sleeping. Dick was glad. He pulled off his jacket and kind of tucked it around Tim's shoulders awkwardly.
Bruce hadn't moved. Not surprising. He walked over and looked down at his unconscious mentor. "I promised him you'd be okay Bruce," he muttered. "Don't you dare make a liar out of me."