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“…and then I said “I’ve had enough of this little bunch - I think I’ll give you all some punch!” and they thought I was going to punch them, but instead I threw the punch bowl at them and they were all dripping pink stuff everywhere, they looked so shocked - “
Robin grinned up at Batman, whose lips were twitching ever so slightly. It was a good day. A few of the less-violent Rogues had teamed up, Batman and Robin showed up before they had time to so much as rob a bank, and the villains had been rapidly dispatched without even a bruise on the heroes’ skin. The Commissioner had commended them, they’d hopped in the Batmobile, and they were on their way home early, no more super-crime apparent. And Bruce was laughing at Dick’s story - or, well, twitching his lips, basically the same as laughing - which was always a plus.
The Batmobile pulled into the Cave accompanied by more of Dick’s happy chatter. Bruce got out first, Dick bounding out the passenger door to his side.
Bruce pulled down his cowl. “Good job, today, Dick,” he said, and Dick looked up at him, grinning widely -
And froze.
He felt like a baby rabbit under the gaze of a wolf, prey looking at a predator, flashing teeth longer than his limbs - there was something wrong with Bruce’s eyes - his eyes, they -
And then it was gone.
Bruce cocked his head to the side. “You alright, chum?”
Dick nodded. Shook his head. Nodded. “Yep, all good!”
The next morning was Tuesday - Dick’s favourite morning of the week, because it was the day when Bruce drove him to school instead of Alfred. Not that Alfred wasn’t great! But getting driven by Bruce was special. They talked the whole drive about the new Gray Ghost movie, about which Bruce was very excited and Dick was very indulgent, and pulled up at the front of the school far too soon.
Dick hopped out of the car with a cheery goodbye. Bruce called him back. “Wait up, chum, you forgot your lunch!”
Dick bounced back to the driver’s side window, and Bruce passed out the lunch.
“Thanks, B, I’d never forgive myself if I missed Alfred’s - “ Dick’s words crashed to a halt as his heart slammed against his chest.
It was back, in Bruce’s eyes - not malice, but the uncaring approaching death of a pickup truck barreling towards a fawn, not anger but inevitability - Dick stumbled back from the car and almost fell to the ground. Bruce raised his eyebrows. “Everything alright?”
And it was gone again. Dick felt his heart slowing back down, and smiled. “Just tripped. See you tonight!” He turned and headed for the school doors, just a little more quickly than usual.
Dick didn’t see Bruce that night - Bruce was stuck in meetings, and then there was a breakout that was a little above Dick’s pay-grade, and Batman left him at home. Normally he’d be almost-sulking. Somehow, tonight, there was a little part of him that was relieved.
When Dick went down for breakfast on Thursday, Bruce was hunched over an enormous mug of coffee and his usual array of seven newspapers. Dick felt a slight twinge of nervousness when Bruce looked up at him the first time, but there was nothing in his eyes except exhaustion. They got to the end of breakfast without anything going wrong, and Dick told himself he must have imagined whatever it was he thought he’d seen.
As Dick passed Bruce to leave the room he reached for Bruce’s coffee to grab a sip - Bruce’s coffee was always 90% sugar, and it was just plain rude of him to hoard all that sugar for himself - and Bruce growled at him. Dick returned an impish grin, and looked up, and there it was.
The growl matched the eyes, demonic, deadly, the snarl of an enormous beast and had Bruce always been that big, he could crush Dick in an instant, swat him like a mosquito -
Dick didn’t quite remember how he left the room. Bruce may have called after him, but he didn’t come after him. Didn’t chase him, didn’t hunt him. Because of course he wouldn’t. Because he was Bruce. He was safe. Of course.
On Friday, Dick got hurt. He was fighting, and trying to avoid looking at Batman’s cowl, because there was something about those flat white eyes that was spooking him, today, when it never had before, and he missed a cue and he took a hit.
Batman left the fight, wrapped him up in his huge arms and carried him to the Batmobile. That was always the best part of getting hurt, was that he got to get carried, in big warm arms that meant he was safe and no one could hurt him anymore. But now it felt a little like being trapped. He knew he’d screwed up, that it was his fault he was hurt, he knew Batman would be angry at him. He kept his eyes down, never making eye contact with Bruce the whole time they went back to the Cave and Alfred patched him up.
Alfred stepped away, and Bruce stepped in front of him. Right. Time for the lecture. Normally that would make him feel a little squirmy inside. Now it made him feel like there were snakes in his stomach.
“Dick - “ Bruce sighed. “You’ve been acting a bit strange the last few days. Are you alright?”
Dick looked up at him in surprise, and there it was, what he’d been avoiding, there were the eyes, the eyes, dispassionate death like the snapping of a rope, like the crack of a broken neck, and Bruce was reaching out for him, and he ran.
This time Bruce came after him. Dick heard him yelling after him but couldn’t hear what he was saying, just ran, an antelope’s futile run from a cheetah Bruce’s legs were so long he could never hope to escape -
The hand slammed down on his shoulder and he turned around, desperately pulling away.
“Bruce, you don’t have to do this! You’re stronger than - than whatever’s controlling you, you can stop this, I know you can!”
Bruce kept coming at him, unstoppable, a fist swinging for his head that Dick dodged away from, and Dick instinctively struck back, his own fist landing against Bruce’s side but not making a dent in the rock-solid muscle. Bruce grabbed for his arm and got it, his force bruising.
“You don’t want to hurt me, I know you don’t, stop, please, please, Bruce - “ but the grip tightened and Dick yelped in pain before kicking at Bruce’s shin and twisting his arm back and around and out of Bruce’s enormous hands. In the moment of confusion he landed several more hits, but they did nothing, Bruce barely seeming to notice except that his eyes - his eyes became even darker, like black holes in his face. Dick turned to run and felt an arm bigger than his torso locking around his neck. He scrabbled at it with his fingers as he was choked, as he suffocated, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe -
“Dick - Dick, are you awake?”
Dick blinked at the ceiling of the Cave’s medbay.
“Dick, can you understand me?”
Dick nodded.
“Are you experiencing any violent urges?”
Dick’s brow furrowed in confusion. Violent? What - then it came back, Bruce attacking him, defending himself - being choked -
Dick jerked his body to the side, trying to throw himself off the cot, use it as a barrier, protect himself from Bruce, and slammed against something soft around his arms and legs. Soft and unyielding. Restraints. No, no -
Alfred appeared at his side. “Easy, Master Dick, I promise you are safe. You were temporarily restrained for your own protection, but you can be released as soon as you’re calm. The device has been removed and you should experience no lingering effects.”
Dick looked up at him with wide eyes, confused and afraid. “Device?”
“During your battle with Mad Hatter, he was able to plant a device on you. It appears to have been having minor effects since then until it was fully triggered last night, causing you to become - ” Alfred looked at Bruce, uncharacteristically hesitant. “ - aggressive. You attempted to attack Master Bruce. He was forced to subdue you, holding you until I was able to inject you with a sedative.”
“What - but - but he attacked me, his - his eyes - “
Alfred reached out to rest a hand on Dick’s. “I assure you, he did not. I was present when the incident occurred. Whatever you saw was a product of Jervis Tetch’s technology.”
Dick fell limp on the bed, eyes locked on the ceiling. After a minute, he felt Alfred carefully undoing the straps around his arms, legs, and torso. Then he heard heavy steps - which meant Bruce was deliberately making them audible - coming towards him, and tensed. The steps stopped instantly.
“Can you look at me, Dick?” Bruce said, quietly, gently.
Dick shook his head, terrified - he couldn’t bear seeing those eyes again.
“Please, Dick, I promise you’re safe.” There was pain in Bruce’s voice. Dick swallowed. He couldn’t hurt Bruce - but then, maybe he had? He couldn’t do it again. He turned his face to the side, slowly, dreading what he would see.
Bruce was there, several feet from the bed, face pulled tight in worry and upset, and his eyes -
- his eyes were warm and sad.
Dick looked into them, eyes in a face that meant safety, looked into those soft blue eyes for what felt like forever, and tears began flowing from his own. Bruce stood where he had been frozen by Dick’s fear for a moment longer but then Dick curled on his side into a sob and Bruce’s arms were around him in an instant.
“I - I was so scared, Bruce, I’m so sorry - “
“You’re alright, Dick,” Bruce murmured, over and over. “It’s over, you’re alright. You’re safe.”
They sat there as Dick cried, and Dick checked Bruce’s eyes, and they were warm, and sad, and safe. And Bruce’s arms were warm, and safe, and the strength of the hug felt nothing like being choked, or being trapped, it felt like home.
“You’re alright, Dick. It’s over.”