Damian sat with him for a long time until Alfred started shouting at him to come up for dinner. Dick had mostly dozed off. He couldn't have thought of a more comfortable place to be and whatever Bruce had given him was stronger than he wanted it to be.
"You better go," he murmured to Damian. "Before Alfred gets Tim to come find you."
"Fine," Damian growled at him.
"Could you tell Tim I'm going crazy?" Dick asked. "I need to him to give me something to do."
"Yes Grayson, I am your messenger."
"Thanks," he said with a disarming smile.
Once Damian was gone Dick closed his eyes again. He missed Damian's warmth next to him. He hadn't really thought about what would happen when he handed the cowl back to Bruce. He was sure he wanted to. To be Nightwing again, to be able to leap off a building, to tumble, to fight without being burdened by a huge cape and decades of mythology, he dreamed about it sometimes.
When he was a kid Bruce had taken him up to the mountains one winter for some high altitude training, or what Bruce liked to call "a vacation". They'd hiked up to one of the peeks one day, Bruce first and Dick following, like always. The snow got so deep that Dick could hardly move in it. After a while the only way he could keep going at all was by standing in Bruce's foot prints. It was hard to match his child's stride to Bruce's long one. He had to jump and stumble and leap just to get his feet in the right place. By the end of the hike he was exhausted from it and Bruce had carried him home.
Being Batman had always felt a little bit like that day in the snow. Every step was more difficult than it should have been because he wast trying to walk in someone else's footsteps.
But he would miss Damian and Alfred. Well, Tim and Bruce too of course but it had been a long time since he'd gotten so used to having people around, people who's caring for him, no matter how poorly expressed, just became part of his day. Love like that kind of infiltrated his whole life. When they weren't there any more he'd notice. He'd miss them.
"Dick," Bruce said softly. "Are you awake?"
"Yup," he agreed without opening his eyes. "What?"
"Want to join us for dinner?"
"Am I allowed to?" Dick asked eagerly. He was still pretty tired but the idea of getting out of bed at all was just about the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him.
"Yes," Bruce said. "If you let me carry you upstairs."
"Seriously?" Dick whined. "That got old when I was about eleven Bruce." They both knew that Bruce had carried him out of all kinds of situations since then and he hadn't complained about it that much but Bruce had the decency not to point it out.
"I'm about ninety nine percent sure you couldn't walk all the way up the stairs anyway," Bruce said. "If you feel like passing out I'll look forward to catching you and stopping you from splitting your face open. Again." Dick glared. Bruce was kind of mean when he got all sarcastic and right.
"Fine," Dick muttered. "But if you let anyone take pictures of me I will start whistling while I'm on patrol wearing your cowl."
Bruce almost smiled and slipped his hand around Dick who just let himself go limp, all the better to get scooped up like he was a child. The way he carried Damian.
Damian kind of felt like he belonged there, in his arms. Dick wondered, for a horrifying and slightly confusing moment if Bruce had ever felt that way when he had carried Dick around. "You're too big for this," Bruce muttered.
"You ordered this," Dick answered back lightly.
Just the act of getting up the stairs was surprisingly tiring for Dick and he didn't even have to do anything.
"Hey Dick!" Tim said grinning at him as Bruce helped in him into a chair. "Good to see you up and about. Kind of. You all right?"
"Peachy," Dick said, grinning. "Where'd you put Damian? It's not a family dinner without Damian." He grinned and shifted so he was sitting up but he actually really wanted to curl up in a little ball and puke. How could being moved be that difficult?
"Master Damian!" Alfred called. From his tone it was probably like the fiftieth time he'd called. Dick wished Damian would just show up, his head was hammering and the noise made it so much worse. For one really horrible moment he was pretty sure he was going to throw up, and that would really ruin dinner.
"Please," Dick added, trying to be light and fun but it sounded weak to him. Bruce shot him an anxious look that he pretended not to notice. Tim was a little more active about his concern, a minute later his hand was on Dick's shoulder. Bruce had turned his back. Dick was glad. Bruce didn't see how weak he felt.
A second later Dammian appeared. Bruce looked like he was going to say something but Alfred saw that coming and smoothly interjected. "Good. Sit down please."
"Grayson," Damian said, looking him over very meticulously, with that same look Bruce had, when he was looking for signs that anything was wrong with him. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said with a shaky smile. "Sit down."
The food looked awesome. Alfred had clearly made an apology dinner, but Dick wasn't sure it would have stayed in his stomach. Alfred must have noticed that, because he said "Master Richard, I'm afraid you're still on hospital food."
"Thanks, Alfie," he said as Alfred handed him a bowl of soup in front of him.
Dinner was fun, even if it took all his energy to hold himself up and eat at the same time. Without his witty jokes the conversation was a little bit weak every few minutes but Tim and Alfred picked up the slack and kept the conversation from lapsing into Damian and Bruce glaring at each other.
When everyone was done the phone rang. Alfred went to answer it. Dick was pretty sure he was going to fall asleep with his face in the mostly empty soup bowl. "Master Bruce it's for you," Alfred said. He excused himself. "Master Tim, Master Damian if you're going on patrol tonight then you should head down to the cave shortly."
Damian nodded curtly and jumped up. Tim grinned at Dick and said "Thanks Alfred," as he staked the plates from the table.
"Be careful out there," Dick said weakly as Tim left the table. His insides were squirming. It wasn't the food, he just felt too tired for anything to work, even his guts. Why was everything so hard? One bullet in the back of the head, a blood clot and somehow everything becomes crippling difficult.
"I will," Tim promised.
"Damian too," Dick insisted.
"Fine," Tim agreed, rolling his eyes. "I will bring the demon child back to you unharmed." Then he was gone. Dick wanted to glare at him for being able to walk around on his own two feet.
Alfred came around and sat down down next to him. Something was playing on his face, Dick frowned when he saw it. Alfred usually looked so calm that even when he kind of wished he was in a medically induced coma, Dick knew something was up. Alfred, sitting down when there were dishes to do? Unlikely unless there was a huge crisis somewhere.
"You okay?" Dick asked.
"Yes Master Richard," Alfred said automatically. Dick frowned and looked over at him. Looking, when did looking become so hard? Then he cocked any eyebrow curiously. "Not really," Alfred said quietly.
"Can I help?" Dick asked.
"I don't think it's the kind of problem anyone can help with," Alfred said softly. "And it's not the kind of problem you can punch until it goes away."
"I can't get back to bed until Bruce comes to get me," Dick said, sounding very begrudging but also joking a little. "If you want to talk?"
Alfred looked him in the eye for a moment, very thoughtfully, then he nodded and took a deep breath. "For most of his life I've served Master Bruce and no one else. I've never had conflicting loyalties before. Of course I'd take a bullet for you or Master Timothy or Master Damian but Master Bruce, well he has always been different," Alfred explained awkwardly. "But he was dead. My loyalties passed to you, completely. Now I must decide to go with Master Bruce, who I have happily followed my whole life and leave you here with the knowledge that you are almost certainly going to do something to endanger your life and be worried sick about you or stay here with you and wonder constantly if Master Bruce needs me."
"Alfred," Dick said quietly and rather miserably. "I never..."
"I know, Master Dick," Alfred said. "None of us asked for this and none of us regret Master Bruce's return but still, we are not the people we were before he was gone."
"That is true," Dick agreed. "Too true. But go with him. We'll be fine."
"Richard, I have thought of you as a son, or perhaps a grandson for all the time I have known you," he said heavily. "And in that time I have spent more time at your bedside, praying that you would survive than any one man deserves to. And there is no worse hell in this world that waiting for someone you love to die. But every time you've come back to us. Forgive me if I'd started to believe that I should be with you every time I hear that you're bedridden."
Dick wasn't really sure there was anything to say after that. So he didn't say anything.
"Besides," he said, "you will do something foolish if you're left unattended. Put on a cowl for example."
"To be honest, dinner wiped me out," Dick said, with a very tired smile. "I don't think I could."
"Should that make me feel better?" Alfred asked. Dick managed to chuckle even though it hurt his head. And his ribs. And his stomach. And probably his toes if he'd stopped to think about them.
"I promise not to," Dick said. "I promised Bruce too."
"Forgive me if I assume you'll break that promise under enough pressure," Alfred said.
"Only to," he paused long enough to yawn, "save Tim or Damian or Babs. Or you, but if you're with Bruce then you'll," he yawned again, "be safe."
"I'm going to fetch him," Alfred said, standing up. "Before you fall asleep on my table."
"Alfred," Dick said quietly. "Go with him. I've got Tim and Damian. We'll be all right."
A few minutes later Dick woke up because Bruce's hands were pulling him off the table. "Can I sleep in my room?"
"All right," Bruce said, as he lifted him up in his arms. "You should have told me you weren't up for this Dick."
"You kidding?" he mumbled. "This was awesome." He thought he heard Bruce laugh as he got pressed against his chest but he wasn't quite sure. Before he could decide, he was asleep.