Chapter Text
Bruce made a horrific noise as he watched Dick fall.
Dick twisted in the air, throwing his arms wide to try and catch himself.
The fall was abruptly broken (still much too late) as he slammed into a far-down balcony.
A surprised yelp could be heard from someone inside.
Dick's body landed sideways with a sickening crack, his already injured shoulder taking the brunt of the fall.
Nearly forgetting the Joker, Bruce fired a grapple gun and launched himself down towards Dicks (still, much too still) unmoving body.
Vicki Vale let out a loud gasp as he dove past her. He wondered if she realised what Nightwing had just done for her. She probably did. She'd been following him around with cameras before Dick was even Robin.
He finally reached his son, shaky hands reaching for his neck.
Bruce exhaled, body visibly deflating as he felt Dick's heart thundering on, as strong and steady as he was.
Batman scooped Nightwing up in his arms, holding him tightly as his head lolled back. He recalled his grappel gun, before firing at a nearby building. He felt the line go taught, before stepping off the edge, swinging to the safety of the shadows. It only took a moment for both of them to disappear, the only evidence they'd ever been there an unconscious Joker, and a bloodstained ledge.
~~~
"Are you serious!?" roared Dick, eyes blazing as he stared down Bruce.
They'd been back in the cave for a few hours now, and Dick wasn't one to stay down for long. Agent A had pulled the bullet out of his shoulder, thanking the heavens it had missed all the major nerves and tendons, before bandaging him up. He was now sitting upright in a medbay cot, staring daggers into Bruce's back.
"I think, you should consider retiring Nightwing," repeated Bruce, refusing to meet the furious gaze.
"Oh, I heard you," he fumed. "I'm just wondering where you found the nerve to ask me that?"
"Dick-" began Bruce, but he was immediately cut off.
"I don't want to hear whatever bullshit you're about to pull," he huffed. "But Nightwing is mine. You have no say in how I operate, or when I choose to quit."
Bruce decided now wasn't the best time to bring up the very large say he had in how Nightwing operated, and went straight to the point.
"Vicki got that shot on camera. It looks like you died. If you left now, nobody would go looking for you. Nightwing could quietly disappear." Bruce was very careful to keep his voice neutral. Unfortunately, Dick has a lot of experience understanding Bruce's monotone.
He narrowed his eyes. "You thought I died there, didn't you?"
Bruce didn't answer, which he supposed was an answer in itself.
Dick just rolled his eyes. "You're scared something is going to happen to me, and you're convinced it'll be your fault. Am I right?"
Bruce remained silent.
"I'm not your sidekick, Bruce."
His glanced up at the words, finally looking Dick in his very angry eyes.
"You're not responsible for what happens to me. I'm a grown adult and I can make my own decisions," he continued.
"The time for concern has passed. I'm going to be Nightwing until I physically can't, and you don't get to have a say in that." Dick's voice was also carefully neutral, but Bruce knows him better than that.
"Dick, you're my son. Of course I-"
"Oh don't give me that bullshit," he snapped. "I was your son when I first went out as Robin. Jason was your son when you sent him out. Are you going to make him Nightwing now?"
Bruce flinched. This was an argument they'd never truly resolved, despite how often they'd fought it.
"Jason did not replace you, Dick."
"'Course not. How long did you wait before-?"
"Nightwing!" he snapped, dredging up his Batman voice.
Dick didn't fall for it. "Oh? Thought you wanted me to quit that?" he challenged.
Damn. He got him there. But Batman wasn't going to back down without a fight.
"Dick, Jason never could've replaced you-"
"That much is obvious."
"- you were getting hurt and I wasn't going to let my son die on my watch."
"Oh and Jason did a much better job in that regard, right?"
"That's not relevant right now." Bruce's voice went cold.
"Why not?" Nightwing's voice went colder.
"- THAT is not relevant. Now is a good time for you to quit. You have time to do something else, move on with your life. I can help you get a job with Wayne Enterprise if you want?"
"There you go again, trying to control everything I do. I do plenty outside of Nightwing, you might want to consider doing the same with Batman."
Bruce relented with a sigh. "I just worry. You know this."
Dick matched his sigh. "I do. We all worry, about eachother, and about you. But you can't keep begging us to quit every time we get worse than a few scrapes. You didn't quit Batman the first time you got shot. Stop acting like you need to rescue us from what we were trained to do."
Bruce didn't answer. The argument wasn't over (he didn't think it'd ever be), but Bruce wasn't going to fight it today.
Dick sighed, standing as he stretched his good arm.
"I'm heading upstairs. I'll see you in the morning."
"Hm."
Light, nimble steps padded up the stairs, disappearing into the mansion above.
Bruce sighed, sitting down at the Batcomputer and opening a report. He'd have to review the Gotham Gazette footage, and make sure that bloodstain got removed before anyone could poke around too much.
He readied himself for a busy night of work.