Chapter Text
It wasn’t so much stealing as it was reclaiming the first time.
Bruce didn’t realize it until hours later, when he was still pacing the Batcave like a storm contained in a man’s body. The words came sharp, angry, and (though he’d never admit it) hurt.
“I just don’t understand where he got the audacity ,” Bruce fumed. “He struts into my house, threatens me in my living room, and steals my son right out of my cave!”
Alfred and Dick exchanged glances, silently debating who would be the one to speak up first.
Dick cleared his throat. “Your son?”
Bruce froze. The word had slipped out too easily, too naturally, and the realization made his chest tighten. He corrected himself instantly. “I meant my protégé.”
“Of course you did,” Dick muttered. Then, louder: “Anyway, I kind of get why Mr. Drake was angry. Imagine finding out your only kid was running around rooftops at night with some weirdo in a bat costume. No offense.”
Bruce kept pacing, ignoring what Dick had just said. “Tim was thriving as Robin. He was helping people, excelling at it—he was meant for this. And now he’s just… gone.”
His father never failed to baffle him with his emotional incompetence. Dick sighed. “Bruce, you’re acting like he’s dead. He’s not gone. He’s in his house, probably grounded and doing homework right now.”
“He’s not going to be content with just doing homework. Soon enough, he’s going to snap and start throwing himself into situations without backup.”
Alfred, finally over Bruce’s wallowing, cleared his throat. “Mister Drake does not know that, sir. To him, Young Master Tim is a teenager who was making ill-advised decisions out of the goodness of his heart. I gather he thinks you manipulated his son into joining your crusade.”
“And honestly? Maybe a break would be good for Tim. If you want him back in the cape, wait a few months. Ask Jack’s permission, then,” Dick added before Bruce could argue.
“He would never agree,” Bruce muttered, his tone full of resentment. “Even though Tim is saving lives , he–”
“Master Bruce, Jack Drake does not see that his son is saving lives,” Alfred interrupts. “All he sees is his son risking his own. You cannot blame him for his anger.”
Bruce signed, eyes dropping to the floor. He looked ridiculous, in Dick’s opinion. If Bruce wanted Tim back because he saw him as a son, he should just say it. No need to keep hiding behind the Robin title.
Well. This was not Dick’s problem. Bruce could stew in his guilt as long as he wanted. Dick, on the other hand, had no trouble knocking on Jack’s door and asking if he could hang out with his baby brother.