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Dick was exhausted.
He felt like he hadn't slept in years. The Arkham breakout had Finally been all wrapped up after stretching the bats incredibly thin. Batman, by the classic Wayne luck, had been in space on Justice League business for 3 weeks, leaving Dick to take on the cowl temporarily. Jason had been charged with taking on Scarecrow, who had been flooding Crime Alley with his fear toxin. Steph and Tim were assigned to Riddler on the opposite side of Gotham. Cass decided to tackle Killer Croc all on her own.
Duke and Damian, much to the latter's chagrin, were in charge of keeping a lid on things during the daytime now that school was out for the summer. Oracle was working overtime trying to manage everyone at once, and Dick set his sights on taking down Mr. Freeze.
He slowly made his way to the showers, stripping out of his freezing-cold armor as carefully as he could. Slipping under the warm stream of water, Dick shuddered in relief. As much as he hated Gotham's warm and sticky humidity, he despised the cold even more.
He wanted to stay in that shower forever, but knew sleeping would be so much better. He changed into his comfiest skeleton sweatpants [stolen from Jason, who thought they were hilarious] and an overly large t-shirt [definitely one of Bruce's, must've gotten mixed in the laundry].
Wiping a hand towel through his wet hair, he made his way back into the cave. Stepping onto the cold linoleum, he glanced at the stairs leading upwards to his warm, soft bed. His legs were so tired. Billion dollar Batcave, and no elevator.
Dick dropped his head and sighed, half tempted to fall asleep on the Batcave floor, right then and there. Looking through his eyebrows, he gave the cave a once-over, taking note of the ratty, beige couch in the corner.
That couch had been there since Dick and Bruce started their partnership. It was old, and the cover was peeling off from use over the years. There was a plaid green and blue blanket draped over the back of it that had been there for God knows how long. Nobody was entirely sure why it was there. It's not like anyone ever used it. Bruce certainly never did. If he was in the cave, he was either sitting at the computer, working out on the training mats, or unconscious in the medbay. It was more of a background object in their lives, no one ever really acknowledging it or interacting with it, but a staple part of their setting.
At the moment, though, Dick could care less about any of those things. He trodded over and plopped down on it, face first. It was surprisingly comfortable, all things considered. It felt like how Dick vaguely recalled Mama Bear's bed was described in Goldilocks and the 3 Bears. Softer than you'd believe, like he was sinking right in. Of course, that was likely a result of just how bone-dead-tired he was, given that he hardly noticed the spring nearly stabbing him in the thigh. It was mere moments before he could feel himself slipping away, thoughts getting more and more incomprehensible as he faded from consciousness.
Until he heard the familiar whoosh of the Zeta tubes. Granted, Dick was still out of it, but not enough to not recognize the steps heading in his direction. It sounded like there were multiple sets, but one stood out among them all. Bruce was home.
Now, Dick had a lot of experience faking sleep. All the time, when he was a little boy, he pretended to fall asleep on the hay bales in front of Zitka's enclosure, so his Mama and Papa would find him and carry him back to their trailer. Later, when Bruce took him in, sometimes he'd fall asleep on patrol, and would wake up in the Batmobile. He would even his breathing, nice and slow, and show no sign of being awake so that Bruce would have no choice but to carry him inside. He had always loved that, as a child, and hadn't done it in years. For one reason or another, maybe exhaustion or simply nostalgia, Dick decided to stay "asleep".
Most of the footsteps stopped right after leaving the Zeta tubes, all except for Bruce's. Dick heard Bruce come right up next to him, making sure his breathing wouldn't give him away. He could smell Bruce's familiar cologne again, the faint smell of oil and burnt paper.
Dick almost gasped when he felt something lay on top of him, and it took him a second to realize what it was. Going two for two that day, Dick realized that ugly plaid blue and green blanket that looked like a rug was surprisingly comfortable. It was like a warm hug had been enveloped around him. He found it safe to snuggle in a little closer to the warmth as he heard Bruce's footsteps retreat.
It was quiet for a few minutes after that, some faint whispers coming from the direction of the Zeta tubes and the soft clacking of the Batcomputer keyboard typing away. It wasn't long before Dick had began to drift off again, only to rouse back at the familiar beeping of an upload complete. That must've been what Bruce came back for, he thought.
Bruce's footsteps started back up, and Dick noticed he was making his was towards him again. What's he doing now, Dick wondered.
Ever so gently, Dick felt Bruce brush a single curl out of his face and behind his ear. A soft kiss was placed on his forehead, containing more love and affection than Dick had felt in a long, long time.
"Sleep well." Bruce whispered to him, taking his leave. All of the footsteps led back to the Zeta tubes, and the familiar whoosh took them all away.
Dick smiled softly. Despite how they may fight, or not get along, or drive each other up the damn wall, he really did miss his dad.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, in the cold, dark Batcave, on a rinky-dink old couch, with a ratty blanket, and his father's affection in his mind, Dick faded into the most peaceful sleep he had had in years
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Bruce was exhausted.
He had been away on Justice League business in space for weeks, and wanted nothing more than to go home. Sadly, past-him had the knowledge and foresight to mandate briefings on any and all League missions. As much as he knows everyone wanted to leave, he knew it was a necessity.
The only problem with this lies in the fact that most of the data he needs he has sent to the Batcomputer in advance, knowing his files system would have likely been damaged or destroyed in battle. Naturally, the only way to receive those files was manually. Of course, Oracle could do it, but Bruce saw the messages of the Arkham breakout upon returning, and knew everyone was exhausted. He wasn't going to bother Barbara with something he could do himself.
Some members, like Hal and Barry, wanted to tag along. It was a common running gag in the League to beg to go to the Batcave. Naturally, they were turned down every time, but just this once, Bruce decided to let them. It was unlikely anyone was down there at this time, plus, he would only be in and out in about 5 minutes, what's the harm?
The moment he agreed, however, it seemed like everyone jumped on the bandwagon, even Clark and Diana, who knew fully good and well what the cave looked like. J'onn and Arthur, thankfully, has decided to skip the trip and head on to the meeting room. No matter. This little side tour, and it's attendants, were of no consequence.
Immediately upon stepping into the Batcave, however, Bruce realized it Very Much Was of consequence. His oldest son had dozed off, or more accurately conked out, on the old couch in the cave. He was never quite sure why it was there, or if it had ever been used before, but Dick was sleeping there nonetheless. Bruce immediately spun around and held up his finger to his mouth in a shushing gesture at his teammates. They shot him a puzzled look before Barry spotted Dick on the couch. Thankfully, half of his face was buried in the cushions, and his bangs covered the tops of his eyes, so his identity remained intact.
Pointing, Barry slapped Hal's arm to get his attention. Both men's jaws were on the ground. Bruce groaned internally, and made the universal gesture for "Stay right here, do not move."
Slowly, quietly, Bruce made his way up to the boy. It became immediately obvious, upon closer inspection, that Dick was awake. Dick never found out, but Bruce always knew when his son was faking being asleep. All the time, when he was a little boy, Dick had fallen asleep on patrol, or in the Batcave, or any number of places, but woke up not long after. He had always continued to fake being asleep, and Bruce let him. It was adorable, and Bruce was more than happy for a reason to carry his little boy and tuck him into bed.
He noticed the beginnings of some goosebumps on Dick's arms- was that Bruce's t-shirt?- and plucked the old blue and green plaid blanket from where it was draped across the back of the couch. Bruce laid it over his son gently, making sure he was covered from shoulder to toes.
Once Dick was nice and warm, Bruce went to finish what he came here to do. He had almost forgotten what he was here for. It didn't take long to pull up the files, the download said it would take 5 minutes. That's enough time to do a little busy work, he supposed, catch up on what he had missed.
By the Zeta's, his teammates were whispering to each other.
"Dude, who's the kid?" Hal asked, half expecting an answer.
"Dunno," Oliver whispered back, "Did you see how domestic that was? He'd never give any of us a blanket."
"You sound jealous," Dinah teased at her husband, poking him in the arm.
"Dude, he'd never let us stay in here for more than about 10 minutes, much less sleep in here," Barry scoffed, turning to Clark and Diana. "Do you two know anything about this?"
Diana only smiled while Clark stuttered out something about how it was none of their business who Batman allows in his cave.
The Batcomputer dinged on the other side of the room, signifying the download was complete. Bruce took the hard-drive from its slot and began back to the Zeta's. He paused midway, and turned to go to his son one last time.
He hardly saw Dick much, recently. Ever since he was living in Blüdhaven, they hadn't seen as much of each other as he would've liked. That is, partially, of course, because of how often they butt heads. Bruce was far from perfect. He could be over-controlling and obsessive, but he loved his children more than life itself. He missed his son. Their relationship had gotten much better recently, but it was still healing.
Bruce stopped and kneeled down by Dick's head. There was an easy way to tell when Dick was actually sleeping. His mouth parted slightly, just enough to show his 2 front teeth [or lack thereof when he was young] when he slept. Whenever he was faking, his mouth was firmly shut. Bruce remembered when Dick had read in a book that sometimes, people will eat spiders in their sleep, and always made sure to close his mouth firmly when he slept. Of course, the poor boy couldn't control such a thing in his sleep, but the habit never broke.
His hair had gotten so much longer, and the curls had gotten so much more defined. He pushed the longest curl away from his boy's face and behind his ear, and leaned down to give a gentle kiss on his forehead. Bruce hoped his son could feel all of the love and affection he held for him all at once. No matter how old Dick got, he's always be Bruce's baby.
"Sleep well," Bruce whispered to his son, knowing that he heard him.
Giving Dick one last once-over, Bruce made his way back to the Zeta tubes. He waved his hand in the air, the universal sign for "let's go," and promptly ignored Flash, Green Lantern, and Green Arrow looking at him like he was a headless chicken. He also chose to ignore the sweet look Clark and Diana were giving him. It was a single moment of weakness, goddamnit. What, can't a man love him son anymore?
They piled into the Zeta tubes, and as soon as the briefing was over, Bruce knew he was going to come home and carry his son to bed again, just like he had when he was little.