All too soon, the weekend was over. Bruce sighed as he looked at the morning sun streaming through his window. It was Sunday. He supposed one of these days he ought to go to church, but he had always struggled with religion. He found it difficult to put his faith in something he couldn't see. As a man of action, he depended on what he could do and what was in front of him. However, he was not above putting his faith in a God. Every time Dick had been seriously injured, he had found himself praying. It was like throwing a life raft into an ocean, praying to this God he didn't believe in. He had tried bargaining, pleading, and being angry with God. Eventually, Dick always came through, but he still felt God was far off and distant from him. Now, sitting in his bedroom, he found himself thanking God for the opportunity to have a relationship with his son again. Perhaps he would attend church today.
Meanwhile, Dick woke up for the last time that week surrounded by the comforting bars of his crib. Bruce came in shortly after and picked him up. He gently changed his son into a clean diaper, neither one speaking to the other. Bruce changed Dick into his civilian clothes, and had Alfred pack Dick's bag. Dick cuddled into his father, realizing how much he would miss him. He whimpered softly in response, and Bruce held him tighter. He cradled his son in his arms as he rocked back and forth in the rocking chair. Dick sniffled, not saying anything. He wanted so badly to stay with his father in the safety of Wayne Manor, but he rationalized that his team needed him. For now, though, he was being held by one of the people he cared most about, and he lived in the moment.
He knew there weren't going to be many opportunities for this kind of thing to happen, and he had to Make the most out of every moment. He put his arms around Bruce's neck as he was carried to the kitchen. Alfred, as usual, was making breakfast. The sounds of kitchen noise were as familiar to Dick as breathing, and comforted him further. Bruce never let his eyes wander from Dick, vaguely afraid of letting Dick out of his sight. He recognized that he might come off as a bit paranoid, but he was Batman- it was just in his nature.
Alfred placed a platter of blueberry pancakes on the table, along with a bowl of applesauce for Dick. Dick sat in the oversized high chair, grateful that his Father was taking care of him. He was thrilled to be mollycoddled.
Robin, for his entire life, was made to do everything by himself. He was a loner, much like his mentor, Batman. He had never been cared for, and it was what his heart screamed for. He remembered his parents, and the care they gave. When his father cared for him, he felt like his parents were happy for him.
Bruce began the process of spoon feeding his son. He smiled as some of the applesauce dribbled down Dick's chin, and wiped it off with a napkin. Alfred smiled at his two charges, and left to finish packing Dick's bags.
Bruce finished feeding his son just before eight o'clock in the morning. For a little while, the pair sat together on the couch in complete quiet. Neither dared to break the silence, and neither wanted to. They said it all when they said nothing. It was just the way they were.
Finally, it was time for Dick to go.
As Alfred saddled him with the gadgets he'd left behind on Friday, Dick was reminded of the world he left behind. The world of babyhood, dreams, and imagination was going to be pushed aside, and the world of heroism, obsession, and crime was pulled to the forefront. For an instant Dick wanted to throw himself onto the floor in a tantrum because he didn't want to go. However, he promised his friends he'd only be gone for the weekend. He couldn't break that promise. Sadly, he hitched up his motorcycle, and had to say goodbye.
He turned to his father, eyes glistening. A dozen things flitted through his mind. There were so many things he wanted to say, but didn't know how to say them. Bruce, understanding, put a hand on his son's shoulder and planted a kiss on Dick's forehead. Bruce pulled his son in for a hug. Dick gave a longing glance to his father, but mounted himself onto his motorcycle. With a roar of the engine, he pulled out of the driveway of Wayne Manor and sped into the streets of Gotham.
As Dick Grayson sped down the familiar streets, glancing at billboards and towering skyscrapers that made up his home. He glanced at it with longing. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now. He leaned forward, partway between wanting to leave the city faster and slower all at once. He missed Jump, but Gotham was his home for so much of his life. His family was there. But, he conceded, his team needed him. He reached the outskirts of the city in record time, and was in no man's land shortly after. The unfamiliarity of the scenery was comforting. After another hour, he was beginning to see the outline of Jump city. All at once he clicked the button beneath the left handlebar, and became Robin once more. When he pulled into the titans garage, he was assaulted by a barrage of emotions, on the one hand glad to be home, and on the other missing Gotham already. As he trudged upstairs and unpacked his bags, he was reminded of the friends he had waiting for him. As he finished unpacking, he said a small thank you to God for the weekend he had. He ran downstairs and reunited with his friends, glad to see their faces.
Meanwhile, Bruce Wayne stepped inside his limousine and smiled.
He was going to church today.