Work Text:
If Thomas was to describe how his day was going, he would say it was shitty. The members of the syndicate, the stupid morons-- all of them!-- who sat there, waiting his time and energy and reserve, did not deserve him. They did not! Superwoman was the only person who’s ideas he could fathom, work with, appreciate. Superwoman was who Ultraman wished he was, the useless bastard. Don’t even get him started on the rest of the--
“Thomas?” A timid voice said from behind him, temporarily tearing him from his thoughts.
From where he was looking at the computer in the Nest, contemplating his reality and the powerful fools he shares this world with, he turned around to see his ward, Dick Grayson.
It still took his breath away, seeing him here again, alive and real and breathing as his beloved original had once done. There were so many complications that could take place that would rip the boy away from him again, that was more frightening then anything the syndicate could come up with.
“Dick,” Thomas greeted warmly, a small smile working it’s way onto his face. “I thought I sent you to bed already?”
“Thomas,” Dick repeated, this time somewhat exasperated. “I stay up later than this all the time, back home.”
If Thomas thought his mood was sour earlier, the mention of Dick’s earth made him even angrier. How dare he mention that place again, how dare he remind him that Dick was raised by a different man, a different Bruce, even, than his own dead kid brother. He was a Bruce that hated him, who despised him, and who wants his son back. A Bruce who would do anything for him.
It was laughable, really. All Thomas had to do to get Bruce to back off with was one threat of setting Ultraman onto him, and the streets of Gotham. That made him angry, of course, and it filled Thomas with a pleasant, warm, feeling. No doubt he’s trying to find a way to bring the kid back with him, and have a zero death count at the same time.
Bruce wants to have his cake and eat it too, and Thomas will not put up with it, not for one moment!
“Thomas,” Dick called out for the third time, and Thomas could tell Dick was getting anxious, even if the kid wasn’t showing it.
There was just something about today that had him inside his head. It was annoying and bothersome and he wished it was tomorrow already. “Yes, Dick, what did you want to say to me?”
Dick nodded his head slightly, as if gaining courage. “What time is it?”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. The kid was looking at him as if he didn’t have any clocks in his room, on his phone, in the manor itself. He was staring at Thomas like he was quizzing him, and excited to see his reaction. “Is that really what you came down here for?”
Dick deflated a bit. “Just answer the question, T.”
Humming, Thomas snuck a look to the computer. 10:54 pm. “Almost eleven, sport,” Thomas replied coolly.
“Happy Birthday!”
Thomas’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback. He felt winded, almost, like during the early days of being Owlman, when his grapple would miss, and he would fall a number of feet or miles down. It only got stronger when Dick, from behind his back, pulled out a cupcake. Chocolate, his favorite. Thomas has no idea how he didn’t catch it before.
Digging into a cargo pocket, Dick found a candle and a lighter. He placed the candle in the cupcake, front and center, and then a few clicks later, the candle was lit.
“Make a wish!” Dick said, grinning. He was holding the cupcake out to Thomas, and it very well may have been his own heart in his hands instead.
Gingerly, he took the desert from the kid, and after a moments thought, he blew the light out. It was anticlimactic and almost boring, but he felt so touched that Dick remembered, knew, even, his birthday. He thought he hadn’t known. Thomas forgot the occasion himself.
“Thank you, Dick,” Thomas said, and he could’ve been the most emotional Dick had ever seen from him.
“No problem, T,” Dick replied carefully, his smile never leaving. He started to back off to the stairs, and they will once again be separated by three flights of grand stairs. “I hope you have a good rest of your night, and you figure out whatever problem your dealing with.”
Thomas nodded once, slowly, like how an owl blinks. “Thank you.”
Once Dick was gone, Thomas stared dumbly at the cake in his hand. He tore apart the wrapper, just a little, and pinched some of its contents with two fingers before bringing it to his mouth.
Delicious.