Chapter Text
When Clark sent the message at 1 AM on one of his days off, Dick wanted to block him. He didn’t owe Batman anything, and he couldn’t stand being contacted only when the man needed a favour. He hated that they were even at this point, hated the state of their relationship. But Clark had said Batman needed him, and Dick knew Clark would never say that unless he meant it.
“Fucking hell,” Dick sneered, suiting up and trying to temper his temper. Going into this angry would just make it worse. He knew that. But seriously, could Batman not handle his own ass for five seconds? He was about to make this the quickest extraction of their lives and return to bed within the hour.
Checking the Justice League social calendar and Clark’s follow-up texts helped explain the state of things when he arrived. So it was less surprising than it could’ve been when Dick came through the teleporter to see all the heroes and legends he admired as a kid, a complete mess.
According to what Clark had said, the others had assigned their own emergency pick-ups just in case. Green Arrow had Black Canary, who Dick knew was a competent enough drunk person to get them home in one of Green Arrow’s self-driving cars. Aquaman looked like he just threw up into Mera's face as she was currently manipulating the water from a water dispenser to clean herself up with a glare.
Diana, Clark and Martian Manhunter were in pyjamas and evidently resolved to sleep on the tower. Flash was slumped onto Iris Allen's shoulder, yelling sweet nothings faster than anyone could understand. And Brunet Green Lantern clearly had some way to get home that hadn't arrived yet judging by how he kept looking at a makeshift green watch.
Dick blinked. Why were they all here waiting by the teleporters? Why hadn’t they left yet? A malfunction? A silent agreement? Too drunk to operate it? And why did they keep casting looks between him and Bruce? It was unlikely that controlling, emotionally constipated Batman was able to bond with his friends enough for them to all be this worried for him getting home. But Dick was observant, and drunk heroes weren’t subtle heroes.
He…didn't blame them. Maybe.
Batman looked frazzled as he talked with the group, but healthy, safe, and uninjured. It was only that confirmation that made him reconsider everything. Dick’s mouth quirked at the corner when Batman stumbled on his feet, something almost evil twisting in the pit of his gut. He wouldn't get a chance like this again to finally hear some honesty out of Batman's usually cryptic mouth. Maybe he should stay and watch the show, too.
Dick approached the man's back with a snarky grin, saying, "I heard you were talking about me?" Batman whipped around, and the room quietened. Oh, here we go. Dick smirked, bracing for his rage, his look of betrayal as he realised Clark had called Dick, the way Batman would defend his poor judgement of drinking to the ends of the Earth and back here to the goddamn Watchtower.
Instead, Batman’s face split into a beam. “Here he is. My little boy! My darling! He's here in that hideous blue suit with those ugly yellow feathers!”
Dick's steps staggered abruptly to a stop.
OK.
Shit.
OK.
So this was what they were doing today.
Cool.
Except it wasn’t. Did Batman have alcohol poisoning?
“Jesus, how much did you give him?” Then the rest of the words registered in his mind. “And fuck you, Bruce, you don't get to tell me what to wear.”
For some reason, the other leaguers thought that was the right time to interject all of a sudden.
“Ah, pooooootty mouth,” Green Lantern drawled with amusement.
“Don't swear at your father!” Diana scolded, hands on her hips.
Amazon alcohol is quite potent, Martian Manhunter’s…voice? Echoed in his mind.
“I didn't last one cup,” Clark grinned. “B lasted two.”
“I threw up,” Aquaman raised the hand over Mera’s shoulder, speaking lowly, and yeah. But, wait. Dick’s mind was struggling to recalibrate this new, sudden interest these heroes had in their relationship. What the hell was going on? Why did they even…? What had Bruce been telling them? Had Bruce been talking to his hero friends about them?
Dick shook it off, crossing his arms. “He's not my father, he's nothing but a probl—”
Bruce reached over then, quickly raising a hand to touch him. “Sweetheart, it's OK. Come! Come here!”
Dick snapped. “I'm not your sweetheart,” he swerved out of Bruce's way, and Bruce looked chestfallen. But for once, he hadn’t had to figure it out. It wasn’t ambiguous, hidden behind several layers of suppression; it was just there. Clear on his face.
Fuck.
Suddenly, Dick wanted to run.
“Oh…” Bruce breathed a sigh of relief, absentmindedly shaking his head. “OK, I probably have you confused with my son.”
What?
“Oh, really?” Dick growled, and his heart panged. Somehow, this wasn’t better. Somehow, it felt much worse.
“Yeah, do you know him? He's so cute,” Bruce cooed, there was no other word for it, and Dick’s lips quite literally fell open into a circle. This was already too much. Was he losing it? Dreaming? “His name is Richard, but we call him Dick, and when Dick was nine, he put frosting on my face, then on all the statues he could find and his toy elephant, and I hated cleaning it up, but it was his way of saying he liked something. I almost cried because of how cute that was.”
“B…?” Dick was stunned, mind uncomprehending as the others stifled pleased sounds. Was it a normal, typical occurrence for Bruce to reveal personal information from such a…biased viewpoint? Was this their doing? His eyes darted over. Was Bruce compromised? What had the Amazon alcohol done to his psyche? Did he have brain damage?
“...thinks he's a big boy now,” Bruce was still talking. “But I remember when he was tugging around Zitka, that’s his toy elephant for your information, and crying out—”
“B!” Dick yelled, loud and shrill with his face turning red without his permission. Jesus.
“Exactly! Just like that, but higher because he was small and just had a nightmare,” Bruce paused. “I wonder if he's been having nightmares…”
There was more laughter and teasing, and Dick’s eyes could not be wider.
Bruce rounded on them, “Don't laugh at him! Unless you want me to hurt you! His nightmares are terrible. I had to cuddle with him for hours sometimes, reading things in funny little voices until he would smile again.”
Flash grinned widely, and Iris laughed under her breath.
“Aww,” Black Canary smiled.
“Bruce!” The shock was finally wearing off now, and he didn’t like what remained. Dick wasn't fond of feeling so…vulnerable. He kept his distance. He had to keep his distance, this was…a fluke. Just drunk nonsense, he couldn’t take it to heart. “Can you just…stop…?”
Bruce, of course, didn’t. Because, since when did he ever listen to anything Dick had to say? “And he is so brave as a hero. So very kind-hearted, and I taught him how to use that to save lives. I brought him up to sacrifice himself for the ‘greater good’ and he does it so well, and that's what he wants with his life. But sometimes I wish I had never done that. It's dangerous, and he's so reckless with himself sometimes.”
Dick let out a curse as he turned his back to the man, fighting down the heat itching his eyes. He couldn’t look at him. “I regret coming here.”
The room went quiet as some of them processed his defeated tone, not that Bruce could pick up on it.
“Hey, I regret many things too,” Bruce added from behind him, unhelpfully. “But not him. Never him. I was so scared to become a parent; I was so young. Twenty-three. And I had no idea what I was doing, but every time he gets up and does what makes him happy, I feel like even if he's not safe,” Bruce sounded like he was smiling. Smiling. “Even if he hasn't recovered from my mistakes, I did something right.”
Dick bit his lip, taking in a shaky breath and then turned back around.
“What would you say if he were here right now?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Dick frowned.
Bruce smiled sadly. “Dick doesn't want to hear anything else I have to say. He doesn't want to be around me anymore.”
Everyone turned to look at Dick, and Dick looked at Bruce.
God.
“But it's OK if Dick hates me and never sees me again. Even if he sees me as scum of the earth, a controlling bastard. I'll never stop loving him and trying to protect him. Never,” he grumbled, eyes sharper. “I'd burn the world down just to see him smile.”
This…
This wasn't fair.
Dick’s breath hitched, and someone who looked like Clark took that as a cue to corral the others to leave before shoving Dick into his dad on his way out.
This wasn't fucking fair.
Bruce looked like Christmas had come early when he recognised the person slamming into his side. “Chum! So you were here after all.”
Dick straightened himself up, and damn, did Bruce stink of alcohol. “Hey, B.”
Bruce looked contemplative. “Have you come to argue with me? I don't think…I can do that right now.”
His heart panged, and Dick cursed, pushing Bruce back. “No, I came to take you home.”
“Oh! You're such a good boy,” Bruce rustled his hair.
“God, B…” Dick mumbled, blush deepening despite the departing heroes, and Bruce sent him a questioning look.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Dick said, but his body refused to move from Bruce’s hand even as his fingers drifted down to fiddle with Dick’s ears as Bruce continued to ramble. Apparently, he was unable to shut up with the Amazon alcohol in his system, and Dick could not stop this.
“You're so much stronger than before, wow. And taller. You reach my chin now. Sometimes I wish you were taller than me so I could never lose sight of you, but other times I'm glad you are this height because it makes hugging you easier. Not that we will ever hug each other again.”
Oh.
Green Lantern shoved them with his ring just as the teleporter room was finally completely emptied except for them.
“Oof! Are you alright?” Bruce steadied him.
“Yeah, I just might end Hal,” Dick vowed, but didn’t push away from his touch this time. Not even when Bruce pulled him into a hug, arms wrapped around his shoulders and chin tucked over Dick’s head.
He felt younger, much younger, in this embrace.
Bruce didn’t let him go, but his strangely cheery tone adopted an edge as he asked. “Can I help?”
“Huh? Dick frowned.
“I don't like him much anyway.”
Dick laughed a little, bringing his arms to wrap around this huge idiot. Now. It felt nice, being here. He didn’t think he’d ever get this again.
“It's been a while since I heard you laugh because of me,” Bruce gasped, low and unsure. It broke his heart. “We’ll have to change that.”
“Yeah,” Dick lightly agreed, closing his eyes and taking some of Bruce’s weight as he began to waddle them to the teleporters the other heroes had just exited from.
“Hey, B?”
“Yes?” Bruce nuzzled into his wavy hair with his jaw, lowering his hands to rub up and down Dick’s arms. Dick couldn’t stop the soft smile if he tried.
“You don't like hugs.”
“I don't?” Bruce pulled away, gripping his shoulders tight, scandalised. “Why wouldn't I?”
“Because you value your personal spac—”
“Oh yes, I do, that's right,” Bruce interrupted, eager. “I don't like when people get too close to me, but you're not just people, you're my son. The rules are different with you. I could hug you for aeons.”
Dick felt himself break then, years and years of uncertainty about his place in Bruce’s life, how Bruce felt about him and what he was supposed to do without the man who raised him crumbled into remains. He had been wrong, Bruce did…he loved him. He practically just said it in every word in the English language.
He could be lying, but Dick wanted to believe he was being honest. He wanted to believe that this was the truth because it was everything he needed to hear.
“Oh…”
“Did you not know? I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should've told you.”
Well, almost everything.
Dick took a step away but remained in his father’s personal space, inhaled and…exhaled.
“Dad.”
“Yes, son?” Bruce positively preened at the term, smile wide and stretching, and Dick didn’t want to ruin something so rare, so precious, but he had to know. He had to know why he had been crying, why they had been fighting so much, how much what Bruce was saying right now mattered. He had to know.
“Why can't you trust me?”
The reaction was immediate.
Bruce’s smile dropped. “What do you mean? I trust you.”
Stop— “No, you don't! You didn't trust me to be Robin, you wanted him gone, and you don't trust me to be Nightwing.”
Bruce took a moment to address that, and Dick braced himself for the worst. “I trust you, you're brilliant, Dick, and only part of that is due to my training. But…I don't trust you with yourself.”
Dick flinched like he had been hit, and really, hadn’t he? It hurt. A lot. “That's not your call to mak—”
“I want you safe, Dick,” Bruce hotly cut him off, swaying a bit. “It's my responsibility. Above all else, I want you safe and happy, and I don't think being a hero accomplishes that.”
Dick didn’t know how to…he…he was angry. “I'm an adult, you're going to have to trust me with myself.”
“I understand…but you are eighteen.”
Not this again. “Legally, I'm—”
“You're my responsibility until I die. I…understand you need space and agency, I'm trying to give you distance now. But you're still my baby. My son.”
So they were lies after all. Fuck. Dick tore his eyes away and forced back his tears.
“I'm literally not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I'm your ward, Bruce,” he scowled, saying a truth. He hadn't wanted any different before, with his parents’ deaths fresh on his mind, but now? Now, it felt like betrayal.
“Are you? No. I thought…”
“Yeah. I…yeah. So don't go around saying things you don't mean. And stop sending me money, I don't need it and I don’t want it.”
This was it.
Dick would take Bruce home today, he’d sleep off his hangover, and Dick would return to Bludhaven, wondering why the hell he ever put his heart in the hands of a man he knew would heal it before smashing it to pieces.
Dick reached in, letting Bruce lean on his body and—
“That changes today,” that man said, nodding to himself a few times.
“OK. Wait, what?” Dick’s mind blanked.
Bruce huffed, unimpressed, about what, Dick didn’t know. “I seriously don't know what sober me was thinking, but I should've sorted this out years ago. My child. My boy. I may as well have birthed you, you are so mine.”
What?
Dick spluttered out a laugh, something like cruel hope brewing in his stomach that didn’t know how to die. He knew Bruce was drunk, and really, he shouldn’t be taking anything the man said seriously, honest or not. But maybe…if Bruce was saying what he thought he was, if it was true, maybe he should. Maybe he – they – should just believe in one another.
“Really?” Dick asked, hopeful.
“Yes, you heard me, young man, you are a Wayne whether you like it or not. And Waynes stick together. When I’m better, we’ll talk. Properly this time. I'll…I’ll try my best to adjust to what you need from me as long as you meet me halfway. I trust you, and I want you to trust me too. OK?”
His mouth moved before he could understand exactly what was happening. “OK, but—”
“But you can't change the facts.”
Dick squinted. “The actual facts are—”
“Nu-uh,” was Bruce five?
“We're not even rela—”
“Nope,” Bruce popped the p.
“Bruce,” Dick smiled, eyes itching once more.
“No!” Bruce smiled back, swaying unstably.
“Dad!”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” Bruce melted into his hold so much that he dropped, and Dick yelped, falling to stop him from splitting his head open on the ground. Bruce, the idiot, laughed when Dick caught him safely, rolling to lie on his back and stare up at the ceiling like he predicted that would happen. Dick joined him, heart fuller than he knew what to do with as he lay beside him.
“We’ll talk?” Dick breathed.
“We’ll talk,” Bruce agreed.
“...I think I'll hyphen it to Grayson-Wayne then,” he smiled, tracing the faint lines in the build with his eyes, the shining lights, the control panel, his father’s face. “What do you think?”
“That's great, Dick,” Bruce grinned, and it was so warm. “I'm honoured.”
“Nice.”
“Nice, I think I'll go to sleep now, darling. Say bye to everyone.”
“B—” Aaaaaaand Dick's face was red again. The room was empty, thank God. “Dad! Stop it!”
“Keep calling me that and I'll have good dreams,” Bruce grumbled, before he immediately zonked out and began snoring.
“Unbelievable,” Dick laughed hysterically, happy tears falling from his eyes for the first time in— in forever as he slowly picked Bruce up and they disappeared under the light of the teleporter.
“Un-fucking-believable.”