Waiting was bad enough. Bruce used to make him sit on rooftops and wait for hours and hours and hours in the rain but he'd traded three days of that just an hour of this. Waiting in a hospital was like hell. There was no where to go, there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even pace without risking waking Tim. He slipped out to get coffee a few times, and to call Barbara and Alfred to let them know Bruce was out of surgery. Babs was so busy she barely paused long enough to breath during their conversation but she sounded relieved. Alfred sounded like himself, only more exhausted then usual. Dick was pretty sure he'd talked Alfred into going home to get some rest, but he wouldn't have been at all surprised to find him sleeping in a waiting room somewhere. He glared at the nurses and doctors who made too much noise, and then followed them out to talk, to hear the same thing again.
Everything seemed to be going well, indicated by the fact that Bruce wasn't dead yet but no one wanted to say it and Dick felt like if one more person gave him a half answer he would punch them in the face. Oh he was so not good at this.
Even the hot nurse who came in once an hour and smiled at him sweetly was not taking his mind off things.
It was almost dinner time. Dick imagined Alfred sitting somewhere in the hospital getting increasingly agitated that there was no one he could force to eat. Worse still, pacing through the Manor waiting for someone to come back. It didn't make him feel better.
He'd had way too much coffee, every minute it got harder and harder to sit still. Tim was still out like a light and God help anyone who tried to wake the kid up.
The sun set, which just made Dick want out more, to suit up and do something. He couldn't pace he couldn't fidget any more, he couldn't keep sending Babs text messages because Tim had fallen asleep with the com in one ear and Dick couldn't work out how to get the damn thing out without waking the boy so texting was the only way to get any information at all. He was almost considering jumping out the window just so he could walk up the stairs when he noticed something.
Bruce had opened his eyes.
"Hey!" he said quietly, jumping over to his side. "Can you hear me?" He blinked very slowly, too slowly for it to be a coincidence. A breath Dick didn't know he was holding suddenly escaped his lungs so fast he had to catch himself on the bed. "How you feeling?" he asked. Bruce jerked his head a half an inch to the left and the tightened his jaw like it hurt really bad. "Makes sense," Dick said. "The doctors weren't sure you'd have any brain function at all, so you're already wildly exceeding expectation." He glared. Dick couldn't stop himself from smiling. Even after recently having his skull reconstructed he could still glare. Then he frowned kind of questioningly. It was kind of remarkable that he was clearly asking Dick questions without speaking. "The doctors said you won't be able to talk or move or think," he said quickly. "So just try not to push yourself too far okay? You're in Gotham Gen, you just got out of some pretty serious brain surgery. Do you remember what happened?" Bruce did the same tiny nod, just a half inch then closed his eyes, apparently because that hurt too. "Good," Dick said, sitting down next to him. "You crashed the Porsche into a tree on the road into Gotham right?" He nodded again. "Good," he said. Bruce tried to cock his head. "We don't know what happened yet," Dick said. "Hey Tim," he said, turning around and pulling out a receipt from his pocket. He crunched it up and tossed it at the kid.
Tim grunted when it bounced off his face ad looked up.
"He's awake," Dick said.
"Hey!" Tim said breathlessly, scrambling to his feet and over to the bed. Bruce smiled a tiny, tiny smile when Tim came into view and Dick felt a little unloved. "How you doing?" Tim asked. Bruce shook his head. "Yeah you should see what they had to do to your brain," he said. "I hacked into your file and it's pretty crazy." Dick grinned at Tim that time.
"Anyway, we should call the doctors," Dick said. "As soon as they think you'll survive a car ride I'll start making arrangements to get you back to the Manor where Alfred and Leslie can look after you okay?"
Dick turned away, confident that nothing would happen in the time it took him to get to the door and if it did Tim could handle it. "Tell Babs," he instructed Tim quietly and the boy nodded.
"Robin," Bruce said very quietly.
Dick turned around. Bruce hadn't moved but he was half smiling at both of them. "Robins," he repeated just a little louder. Tim grinned and Dick almost laughed out loud.
Bruce was going to be okay.