Mother was mad at him.
He looked at her, deeply frightened, even though he was sixteen years old.
"Sorry, Mother. I'm sorry." Mother Mae Eye looked at Robin with a ferocious glare.
"Mother doesn't like it when her Robbie-Wobby runs off like that." She chastened.
"I'm sorry." He said, looking down at his shoes. A pie appeared in front of him and he ate it gratefully.
"I love you, Mother." His eyes glowed pink.
Batman skulked in his cave, anxiously hoping his son would contact him somehow. He touched base with Dick every week or so, but he'd heard nothing from the boy the past two weeks. It wasn't uncommon for them to miss a week if one was swamped with work, so when Robin hadn't contacted him the first week, he hadn't thought anything of it. When he hadn't heard anything the second week, he began to worry. Now, he was consumed with the sensation that something was horribly wrong. He tapped into the Tower's security cameras (bought and produced by Bruce Wayne) and was shocked to see his son with his hair combed down. Oh dear Lord. His son was in deep trouble. He called Oracle and Alfred and had them watch over Gotham for a few days.
He had to get to his son.
He was at peace. Incredibly comforted. Mommy was tucking him in to bed, and he was nice and relaxed. Mommy smoothed down his hair like he liked, kissed his head, and said goodnight. He snuggled into his sheets and put his thumb in his mouth. Mommy was here. Nothing could take her away. Little did he know, Daddy was watching- and he wasn't pleased.
When Batman got to the tower, he had no idea what to expect. Mind control, perhaps? Possibly some sort of microchip? These were the ideas he thought of that he deemed absolutely plausible. However, when he arrived to the island which held Titans Tower to see it covered in gingerbread and cotton candy, his mind went into overdrive worrying about what was going on in there. So, like the bat he was, he soared onto the roof and slipped into the ventilation systems with nary a problem nor care. Batman wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of the gingerbread and something else... He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked through the slots until, finally, he reached Robin's room. Even with near black lighting and the inconvenience of the ventilation slots, he could see Dick curled on his side with his thumb set firmly in his mouth. Bruce knew well enough to know that Dick had stopped sucking his thumb at the age of ten. He had threatened to bench Robin if Dick didn't stop. After that he'd only done it in times of extremely high stress.
With as much care as ever, he slipped through the vent and went over to his son. Robin, having extremely honed senses, opened his eyes, frightened.
"Mommy?" He asked, scared. Bruce knew he had to baby his son, no matter how much it disgusted him.
"No Dickie, it's Daddy." He said in as sweet a voice as he could. Dick's face relaxed.
"Daddy," he said in a slurred voice, "sweepy." He set his thumb in his mouth and started to suck again.
"I know, Dickie. Go back to sleep. Everything's okay."
"Daddy," he slurred, "I want my paci." The thought of his son having a pacifier made him cringe, but he held himself together. He saw the little soother on his son's nightstand, and reluctantly placed it in Dick's mouth. Dick sighed contentedly, and fell back asleep instantly. Bruce did his best to hold his stomach when he saw the baby bottle next to where the pacifier was.
At this point, Bruce was just hoping fervently that she hadn't put Dick back into diapers.
He snuck down the hall to where he heard a woman humming. He peered around the corner to see a witch baking pies. Behind her, a red haired alien girl snuck down the hall to a room Designated to Raven. Batman kept to the shadows as the red haired girl tried to convince a girl in pigtails and a sunshine-yellow dress that "Mother" was a fake. When she didn't listen, she hit her over the head with a rolling pin. Batman, for a moment, was stunned, but soon realized that the girl was back to normal. He had to do the same for Dick, he saw.
The girl moved onto the other two rooms, but before she or Bruce could get to Dick, the woman attacked. Huge and looming, Batman kept to the shadows and watched as Dick's team battled her. He found them to be competent, so he went to his son.
Dick lay just as he had when Batman had last left him. For a second, he just looked at the peaceful expression Dick had adapted. He felt extremely guilty for having to remove it. As he went to wake his son, a score of memories flashed before his eyes. He remembered his earliest days with Dick, and how he would have given anything to see him look that way. He removed his cowl, knelt down to Dick's eye level, and ran his fingers through his child's hair. Slowly, Dick opened his eyes, and took his pacifier out.
"Daddy?" He asked innocently.
"Hi Dickie." He said, quietly. "It's time to wake up now."
"Daddy, no... I'm tired." He whined.
"I know, but you can take a nap later." He said, apologetically.
"No more, Daddy. I'm tired." He said, putting the pacifier back in his mouth. His eyes briefly landed on the bottle by his bed. He went to grab it, but Bruce took it first. Dick looked at him with eyes that made his heart break. He pulled his pacifier out.
"I want my ba ba." He said.
"You don't need it, Dickie. You're a big boy."
"Daddy, please..." He said, on the verge of crying. Bruce caved, and watched with disgust as his son sucked on the bottle. The witch was going to pay big time. The milk in the bottle was warm, and soon Dick had nearly fallen asleep again. He let the bottle fall to the floor, and put the pacifier in before sleeping again. He turned over onto his side, and Bruce noticed for the first time that Dick was holding a stuffed animal. It was his old stuffed elephant Zitka. Bruce sat there, stunned for a moment. She'd really made his son infantile.
He wondered briefly if Dick was wearing a diaper. If he was, it was something Bruce didn't want to know.
He had to fix this. Now.
His son was sixteen, and was acting like a two year old. There was only so much he could take. He raised a teenager who was more than capable of taking care of himself, not a baby who couldn't live without his bottle, pacifier, and stuffed animal. He hoped- no, prayed that this was all an effect of the mind control.
Batman pulled a batarang from his belt and put his cowl on. With a deep sense of regret, he hit his son over the head.