Work Text:
Dick promised himself he won’t cry. He won’t .
He was twelve. He was big now. He can’t just keep crying over the smallest things. His parents were dead for years. Why can’t his stupid stupid brain accept it?
It wasn’t even a big deal. Just some stupid cake .
So what if his mama used to make it? She wasn’t the only one. It’s not like… It’s not like it was some stupid tradition they have. It was just…
Dick sniffled, trying (and failing) to stop tears.
He missed her so much. He just wanted to… he wanted to sit with her and laugh and help her mix the cream.
He remembered how she kept telling him to shsh, be quiet, don’t tell dad. How she told him the slice of cake will be their little secret.
It was dumb. Of course dad would know. Mom wouldn’t just lie to him over stupid cake.
So what if Dick didn’t know this when he was six? It was still dumb.
There was no reason to cry.
And yet, his cheeks were wet, his mouth full of salt. And there was something dripping from his nose.
He wanted to stop crying.
(He wanted his mom back.)
“Dick?” someone said. Oh. It was Bruce. Bruce sounded worried. Dick wanted to tell him everything was okay. Except the only thing that left his mouth was another sob. “Chum, what happened?”
Dick sniffled again, tears falling faster and faster.
“Can I… Just… Could I… Can I just have a hug? Please?”
Because Bruce still hated touching, Bruce didn’t want to give him hugs, Bruce was awkward, Bruce-
Was hugging him right now. It was a nice hug. It made Dick feel safe.
It felt a little like his dad’s hug.
Dick started to cry harder.
“Do you want to tell me what happened? Or do you want to just sit there?” he asked and put Dick in his laps.
“Iss stupid” Dick hide his head in Bruce's chest, forgetting for a moment that he will get Bruce’s shirt dirty this way.
“You don’t have to tell me. But, Dick, nothing that makes you cry is stupid.”
And it made Dick cry even harder.
“I… the cake. Iss stupid. My mama make it. It- it wasn’t anything special. Iss juss only one she
never bought
. And I…” he kept crying, kept hiding his head in Bruce’s chest as Bruce pet his hair.
“It was special, chum. Because she made it. It doesn’t matter if there is anything else special about it. When it’s something connected to the person we love, that’s what makes it unique. We don’t choose what will make us emotional, what will remind us of people we care about. If cake is what makes you miss her, then it’s important.”
“I don’t wanna cry for stupid things” it felt like a confession.
“I cried over cookies, you know?” Bruce murmured. “My mom didn’t have much time to bake when I was a kid but… she sometimes did. There was one kind she did more often than others. It was just a coincidence, they weren’t anyone's favourite or even a family recipe but… When Alfred tried to make them for the first time, I started crying. I kept yelling and yelling, until he promised to never make them again. It was… stupid of me. One day, when I was traveling, I bought some of them. They tasted a little different, but… it reminded me of her. I was twenty one at the time and I still cried. It was something connected to her. Even if she was long gone, I could feel closer to her. It was one more thing to remember her by.”
Dick felt slowly calming down, his sobs smaller and less frequent. Even the salary, wet tears weren’t as overwhelming anymore.
“What I’m trying to say… It’s okay to not be ready, yet. I can tell Alfred, we won’t have this cake again until you say so. But… Not everything that remains you of your parents has to be sad. It can be a way to carry them with you for the rest of your life. But it all depends on you and if you feel ready. You shouldn’t force yourself and… it will never be too late, to keep them close” Bruce finished, and Dick still cried.
But if Bruce cried too it was okay, right?
If Bruce cried when he was Dick’s age and when he was grown up, then it had to be okay.
“I… think I wanna try… But not now. I can’t… Tomorrow?”
“We can try tomorrow.”
Bruce didn’t let him go.