I do not own Batman or it's characters because if I did, the story would be all about the family.
"Dick, how many times have I told you not to leave your things down in the cave?" Batman muttered to himself as he stepped out of the car and stumbled over a box of crayons. He observed his normally neat and tidy cave with resignation as he saw blankets and toys littered all across the floor. He wanted to say that this was a new occurrence but he was always finding evidence of Dick's presence in the cave, everything from smudgy child-sized handprints all over his screens to little notes left in his vehicles. Bruce absentmindedly fingered the scribbled message Dick had left him earlier in the evening. Since when had the orphan he had adopted in a burst of empathy managed to root so deeply into his life?
It was just coming up on four in the morning and by this time Dick, and hopefully Alfred, were comfortably asleep. He'd been delayed coming back by Two-Face wreaking havoc at the Gotham Life Building. The battle had been brief but exhausting and Bruce felt every part of him aching from the long, stressing night. He pulled off his cowl and rubbed at his face, not giving the toys in his way a second glance as he stepped over them. Usually Dick was pretty good at keeping his things out of sight when he wasn't playing with them, even then, Alfred was there to clean up whatever the boy left behind. There was something going on here, something that wasn't quite right. Dick never brought out this many toys at once and never left them out so carelessly, but Bruce was too tired to give it more than a passing thought.
He just needed to input the recapture of Dent into the computer and then he fully planned on falling into bed and- Dick? Bruce was surprised to find his ward curled up in his chair, one of Bruce's spare capes wrapped around him like a protective shroud. He had pulled himself into a tight, painful looking ball, with his face hidden from view but Bruce could hear his quiet sniffling underneath the cape. The Dark Knight and billionaire Prince of Gotham, froze.
Usually when Dick was upset, there was a reason for it and Bruce could help him work it out. At the very least, Alfred was there to give Bruce the emotional support he so desperately needed when dealing with the child. But when he last checked in, all had been well. Dick had been safe and sound in his bed when Alfred announced he was going to turn in for the night. So there were very few options that could cause the normally happy child to break down like this. He swallowed nervously, the pain of his parents' murder still haunted Bruce decades after the fact as he heard the fatal gunshots over and over again in his dreams. Not even a year since his family's murder, Bruce imagined Dick had been awakened by the terrible sound of the Flying Graysons' fatal fall. He wasn't good with emotions, he usually sent Dick to Alfred or Leslie for that, but there was no one else awake who was prepared to deal with Dick's nightmares.
"I'm sorry Bruce, I didn't know where else to go." He heard Dick whispered hoarsely underneath the cape, telling the detective that the boy had been down here suffering on his own for quite some time. He found himself hurting at the thought of Dick being alone when he was in such a state. Following the murders, a much younger Bruce had spent many nights anxiously pacing his room as if that would allow him to shed the dreadful images that assaulted his dreams. He cleared his throat.
"It's alright chum," Bruce intoned lightly, using the familiar nickname to try and calm the frightened child. They lapsed into a painful silence after that as Bruce shifted awkwardly on his feet. He didn't know what to do, he wasn't Dick's father and it wasn't his place to try and fill that role. Besides all that, Bruce was simply too detached, too damaged from his own experiences to feel comfortable with the level of intimacy parents were expected to give to children. As much as is pained him to see the boy in his charge so upset, Bruce wasn't sure if he had it in him to bridge the gap between them. While he battled himself internally, Dick finally poked his head from underneath the cape to reveal splotchy cheeks and red rimmed eyes. He sniffed and ran his palm over his eyes.
"Sorry for the mess Bruce, I'll clean it up later I promise. I was just playing around and lost track of time. You look really tired, you should go to bed. I'll be up in a little bit." The boy answered in a halting voice. He even had the audacity to shrug his shoulders and smile briefly as if he could pretend that he wasn't hurting, as if he could convince Bruce that everything was alright. And perhaps that was worse than anything.
Because it made him stop and properly think of how many times Dick had been in pain like this, had visions of broken trapezes and crushed bodies dancing before his eyes only to brush them aside for Bruce's sake. How many times had he ignored Dick's too quiet presence, his soft sobs in the middle of the night due to either ignorance or just because he felt uncomfortable dealing with Dick's problems? The weight of his unintended negligence hit him like a ton of bricks. He took in the boy because he wanted him to grow up without the painful burden of his parents' death dragging him down. Only now was he seeing that he hadn't been honoring that promise, that Dick was hiding his feelings away just like Bruce had and wasn't allowing himself to heal. And if there was one thing in the world Bruce wanted for his young ward it was the peace of mind to move past his tragedy. He knelt before the small, frightened boy and put his hands on his shoulders.
"It's okay to admit that you're scared, Dick," Bruce began slowly, trying to find his feet on this unfamiliar ground. "I know that night still haunts you and that you miss your mother and father but it's good to let it out. You can't keep your feelings locked up like that, you need to let them go and properly grieve." The unspoken unlike me hung heavily in the air as Dick's wide eyes stared up at him sadly with maybe a little bit of surprise. This conversation was long overdue but there wasn't time to dwell on the past, he had to try and save the future. Dick's eyes became watery again and he started scrubbing at them until Bruce gently pulled his hands away.
"They would want you to live Dick and to do that you need to let out that pain you're carrying inside of you." Bruce paused, wondering if he should continue or not. But Dick needed to hear this right now and he wasn't going to let his own discomfort get in the way of that. "I used to think I could handle it on my own as well. I worked hard to hide my pain deep inside and pretend it didn't affect me. It's made me the man I am today and I don't want that for you son and neither would they."
"I-I," Dick whimpered as the tears hanging on his long eyelashes finally began to fall. "I miss them Bruce, I miss them so much, I wish they were still here, I wish we were still a family." He choked out; once again curling into his protective ball, but this time Bruce was prepared. He reached forward and wrapped his arms around the small, shivering child who immediately latched onto him. Dick didn't say anything more but he continued to cry into the heavy material of his cape. Bruce didn't know what else to do at that point, so he just gently shushed the boy and gave the occasional pat on the back when his sobs became too painful sounding. Eventually though, the crying slowed down to a stop until finally Bruce looked down to see the boy resting comfortably on his shoulder. In fact, he would go so far as to say that the boy looked more at peace than he's ever been since coming to live with them.
"Alright, let's get you to bed champ," he muttered to no one as he ascended the stairs with Dick still held protectively in his arms. Luckily Alfred wasn't awake to see him arriving on the main floor still in his costume.
"Master Bruce, is everything all right? I heard the Young Master crying but I couldn't locate him." Bruce hid his wince as Alfred came seemingly out of nowhere, a small candle the only light between them. He did manage to catch the older man's eyebrows rising at Dick's current position. "Sir?"
"Dick just had a nightmare and I told him to let it all out. It's what Leslie used to tell me, you know, and I'm glad to see that it was helpful to someone." He shifted the boy in his arms. "I'm sorry if we woke you, I'll go put him back to bed and then I'll change." Now he can't say for sure as it was awfully dark, but Bruce was pretty sure he saw the butler grin as he passed him.
"Oh it's no trouble at all Sir. You go put the lad to bed and then retire yourself. You've had an eventful, but fulfilling, evening."
Just when you thought it couldn't get any cuter. There's an awful lot of Bruce/baby Dick fluff on this website, which I adore to pieces, but sometimes I feel they can be a bit OOC. Bruce was not instantly a warm, caring father and I guess that is why I love Brucie. It takes time for Dick and the others to squeeze their way into his damaged heart and that's what makes the bond so meaningful to me. Because, in the end, Bruce honest to god loves his kids, even if he doesn't always show it, that he was willing to open up for them. Sorry, yeah, that was the impetus of this story and I guess why this chapter is special is because this is where Bruce realizes that he needs to step up. Luckily for us, he does and he raises some fine children.