Chapter Text
Dick was staring at Bruce.
They were in the Batcave, having returned home for the night after stumbling into information that required more investigation, and while Dick had finished changing into pajamas, Bruce was still sat at the computer, only his cowl, gloves, and cape removed. He was engrossed in the research he was conducting and hadn’t actually told DIck that he needed to head up to bed after getting showered and changed - a weak excuse for defying expected behavior, but Dick was once again on a mission to get his bedtime extended.
He had succeeded at getting it pushed back to 9pm when he was 10 and had been making a strong case for 12am now that he was 11 and going to be starting middle school kind of soon. And the weekends were the best time to go pushing boundaries since Bruce was less stubborn about his bedtime when Dick didn’t have school the next morning.
So, Dick had quietly padded over to a couch that was set close enough to Bruce that he’d have a decent view of the computer and had gotten comfortable, settling in on the end that wasn’t draped with Bruce’s cape.
And as time had ticked on, he’d started staring at Bruce.
He was trying to be subtle about it and Bruce wasn’t giving any indication that he knew Dick was staring at him, but… Dick also knew that there was no way he was being subtle enough to have avoided detection.
Even though he had no actual evidence for it, it was obvious to him that Bruce was only failing to acknowledge him or ask him what was up to be polite - a courtesy that Dick was certain would be overcome by curiosity soon enough and faster still if he didn’t stop staring .
The cave was mostly silent, save for the bats awake above them, Bruce’s typing at the keyboard, and the faint creaking of the couch as Dick shifted around. He crossed his arms, uncrossed his arms, leaned on the armrest, started bouncing his leg, sat up straight again and suppressed a yawn. All the while still staring at Bruce.
Usually he would have talked about something, anything, just to break the silence and keep from being bored, but… he’d been thinking lately… about something he sort of wanted to talk to Bruce about and tonight, in the near stillness of the cave, that conversation had lodged itself firmly in his throat, making it hard for him to speak.
When he’d first been brought into Bruce’s home, there’d been multiple occasions where he’d accidentally called Bruce his dad, slips of the tongue in the middle of the night when he’d woken from a nightmare and Bruce had rocked him back to sleep and Dick, calmed now, had just wanted to thank him. Or when spikes of nervousness would hit as Dick wandered the halls of the manor, exploring, only to realize that everything was so silent - from the carpet rolled out over the dark wood floors softening his steps to the still pictures of the yard that the windows looked out upon to the empty rooms he’d been tiptoeing into - and he simply couldn’t stand it anymore, a foreboding feeling that if he didn’t find Bruce he’d be alone forever, and if a stray “Dad?” slipped out while he was calling for Bruce, he was too stressed to care.
At some point, the nightmares had stopped and Dick had become, if not more accustomed to being alone, then more comfortable in the manor and the slip-ups had stopped.
Until recently.
A few weeks ago one of his school friends, Mia, had asked if he and another friend, Lisa, could come over sometime that week because her older sister’s birthday had been the Saturday before and she’d gotten a new video game she’d probably let them play. Lisa had said she’d ask her mom, and, without even thinking about it, Dick had echoed her, nodding along and saying, “Yeah, I’ll ask my dad.”
He hadn’t even realized what he’d done until he’d spotted Lisa’s surprised expression and even then it’d taken him a second to realize what she was reacting to. She’d, of course, been there two years ago on Halloween when Will, another of their friends, had made the mistake of trying to insist that Bruce was Dick’s father and she’d borne witness to Dick blowing up about it and insisting that a guardian and a father were different.
Dick’s stomach had dropped and he’d sunk down in his chair, strangely embarrassed, and muttered, much too late, “Um, I mean Bruce ! I’ll ask Bruce…” Mia hadn’t seemed to think anything of it and Lisa had looked curious, but she hadn’t said anything.
Dick, however, had been thinking about it ever since. At first it’d been rationalizations about how it’d just been an accident and it obviously didn’t mean anything. But… it wasn’t long before he started to wonder if maybe it did mean something. And if he was really all that opposed to it if it did.
It was an uncomfortable thought, squirming around in his stomach. That maybe Bruce was his dad and if that thought didn’t make him upset like it used to, then maybe his prior insistence that Bruce wasn’t and couldn’t be had never been true. And on top of that, if he was Dick’s dad then… what did that mean for his actual parents? ...Did it mean he hadn’t loved them enough?
He’d cried about it a few times, tucked into his bed, unable to sleep.
He really didn’t want to cry about it again.
Dick squinted at Bruce, like if he stared hard enough he’d magically have his answers or it’d suddenly be easier to get out what he wanted to say. Nothing happened and after a moment Dick shifted again, tucking his legs up underneath him with a sigh and looking away from Bruce for the first time since he’d started staring.
His gaze was caught by Bruce’s cape and he reached out for it, grasping the smooth, silky fabric and tugging it into his lap. It was a bit heavy, settling as a comfortable weight across his legs and he started toying with the end of it, twisting the triangular edges between his fingers and tying them together, leaving the whole thing a knotted mess before he finally stopped with a small, uncertain, “Bruce…”
The typing at the computer stopped and Dick could hear Bruce’s chair turn in his direction.
“Yes, chum?”
Dick pressed his lips together, nervousness leaving him unsteady. “Are you… If you could have had a - um - a new parent… would you have?”
There was a pause, then Bruce was getting up and walking over to him, kneeling in front of him. Dick stared resolutely at the knotted cape in his lap.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Bruce said, gently. “Can you explain?”
Dick’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, it’s just… You’re- Are you-” He sighed frustrated, and looked at Bruce. Bruce was watching him closely, but his expression was all concern and curiosity, not an ounce of irritation or impatience. “You’re sort of like a parent to me. Right? Like… You do the things parents are supposed to do: you try to make me go to bed on time and you try to go to those parent-teacher meetings and you tuck me in at night and you just… take care of me and all that. So…”
For a second, Bruce didn’t speak, but then he nodded and gave an understanding hum. “I do, do all of that, yes. And…” he reached out, placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder and squeezing gently, a small smile appearing on his face, “I would like to think I could be a parent to you, if you were okay with that.” His gaze got a bit distant, then, and he continued, “As for myself… Honestly, I’m not sure. Alfred was similar to a parent to me growing up, but it’s a bit… complicated.”
Dick nodded, the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach getting stronger, and twisted the cape in his lap.
Bruce must have noticed his confliction because he rushed on to add, “My situation with Alfred was quite a bit different than yours with me, though. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with thinking of someone new as a parent. Like you said, I… I do the things parents are supposed to do.”
Dick glanced up at him and- He really hadn’t wanted to cry again, but his eyes were burning and he still felt uncomfortable, but his heart also felt so much lighter than it had in days.
“Oh, come here,” Bruce murmured, pulling Dick in, hugging him to his chest as best he could in their awkward position, and petting his hair. “Dick, I’d be honored if you thought of me as your parent. And even if you don’t or you never do, I love you so much and I’m so happy to be a part of your life.”
At that, Dick did start to cry. He dropped the cape to grasp onto Bruce tightly and with a bit of maneuvering Bruce managed to gather Dick up in his arms and seat himself on the couch so he could better hold him through the breakdown, rubbing soothing circles onto Dick’s back.
And when Dick had finally exhausted his tears, Bruce grabbed him some tissues from a side table and asked him if he wanted to stay where he was or be brought up to bed. Dick blew his nose and scrubbed at his eyes, completely worn out. He didn’t even have the energy to say anything and going to bed sounded nice, but he also wasn’t fond of the idea of being left alone in his room, so he put up a finger, a one, in request to stay down in the cave.
Bruce nodded. “Alright.” He petted Dick’s hair once more, then carefully shifted him onto the couch and got up.
The second Bruce’s spot was vacated, Dick laid down, cushioning his head with his arms and closing his eyes, still awake but probably not for long. He could hear Bruce moving around, felt Bruce’s cape get draped over himself. A few moments later, the typing at the computer started up again.
Everything was quiet, but not too quiet and for the first night in weeks, Dick’s thoughts were still.