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He could still remember it. That day Bruce changed. Not that his behaviour did outwardly. He had treated Dick the same as ever, but there was always something off about it. There was no longer any genuine happiness in their time together, almost as though Bruce found it a burden. His reassurances were frequent but empty and he should have known that Dick would know.
At first he’d pushed. Tried to be brighter, friendlier, better. Clung to Bruce as the man was slipping away. But that had only seemed to annoy him.
So he’d pulled back, let Bruce have his space. It didn’t make him any fonder of Dick but it seemed to make him more comfortable.
That was when the flowers started.
He’d barely noticed the cough. He’d been so miserable he probably wouldn’t have noticed if one of his limbs fell off. Hell it felt like one already had. But it was harder to ignore the little pink petals in his hand.
”Cover your mouth when you cough Dick. Like a proper young gentleman.”
Everyone knew what the flowers meant, of course. Easy fix then, just go to Bruce, tell him, get flatly rejected and try to move on. The thought hurt his chest even more. Maybe he could have been able to stomach rejection, but from a Bruce who probably didn’t even find letting him down gently worth the effort? That was a less sure thing.
Still, he was turning eighteen next month and the flimsy excuse of not wanting to make Bruce uncomfortable would only last so long. It was a deadline he could keep.
All things considered, it was a nice enough birthday. Would have been nicer if the choice he’d made hadn’t been looming like a noose in the back of his mind. Still, after the requisite society party and before he ran off to have a real one with his friends, he managed to corner Bruce in his office. Where the man had ran off to the second he’d been able.
“Something I can help you with?” His face was perfectly pleasant, and perfectly blank.
“Not exactly. But, um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” The words were right there, but they felt stuck. Impossible to reach.
Bruce was watching him. Infinitely patient, still so little behind those eyes. Not like much could hurt more. Time to get it over with. “I love you.”
Bruce didn’t even twitch. “Okay.”
“I mean, like, I’m in love with you.” Surely it was at least worth a reaction. Even a negative one.
“And what do you expect me to do about that.”
If he’d thought the rejection couldn’t hurt more than the feelings already did, he had been wrong. Suddenly it was like everything he’d been trying to suppress in order to help Bruce through whatever was happening exploded out of him. “I don’t know! Scold me? Let me down gently? Have me leap into your arms? Give me a three hour lecture on why it’s inappropriate? Kiss me? Hit me even! Goddammit Bruce what happened? It’s like one day you just stopped caring about me at all!”
“I did.”
You could have heard an ant cough the room was so silent. Dick would have preferred Bruce had hit him.
“What?” He hated how wet his voice came out. He wasn’t going to cry about this. He wasn’t.
Bruce sighed, suddenly looking exhausted, and ran a hand through his hair. “You remember about six months ago when the Penguin attacked Bruce Wayne at a museum event?”
“Yeah. It was awful, he got you pretty bad and they dragged you off to St. Chretien’s.” Dick had managed to sneak off for a costume change, and by chance Barbara had been attending with her father. Between the three of them they’d managed to nab Cobblepot, but Bruce had been long gone by the time anyone could explain he had his own medical facilities. Which was not something he or Barbara really wanted to explain anyway. “What does that have to-“
“While they were stitching me up, they noticed I had already been suffering from a… condition, which had become life threatening, and would certainly make recovery much more difficult. They did what they had to in such a situation.”
“I still don’t see what that-“
“Then put the pieces together. I thought I trained you better than that.”
Something that the doctors would have found, something they would have done to save his life. Something that would have changed Bruce. The answer was as obvious as it was unbelievable.
“Flowers?” The word left Dick’s mouth without his say-so. He was feeling a little light headed.
Bruce just looked tired, ashamed. “Yes.”
It was, at rare times, necessary for the flowers to be surgically removed. There had been some arguments about patient consent, but in the end the courts had decided that unless someone had it in writing that they didn’t want the flowers removed in the event of someone blacking out from them or being otherwise incapacitated, they were to be taken out.
It wasn’t foolproof. Sometimes the lungs were damaged, sometimes bits of root got left inside and the plant regrew. Most of the time it wasn’t even close to necessary, because with the real possibility of death on the table even the most shy and awkward of people were willing to man up and get rejected. Few were the cases where someone refused and they usually had extenuating circumstances.
“That was six months ago. But Bruce, that doesn’t make sense. There’s never been a recorded case of even severe injury with them in under a year.”
“It was closing on three at that point.”
So he would have been- the thought left him both queasy and a little flattered. He’d look into that later. “You still could have told me. Were you worried I would hate you for it?”
“If anything, the opposite. I was worried you’d encourage it.”
“I-“ He would have. He knew that much. Any chance to be something else and something more to Bruce would have been too heady a thought. He would have jumped at it. Made any excuse he could about why it was fine in this case.
It was fine because nothing had happened. If it had it was fine because fourteen was basically sixteen which was basically eighteen anyway. It was fine because the flowers meant that Bruce really loved him.
None of it would have made sense really, but he could have rationalized. Even though Bruce wouldn’t have been able to.
“I considered getting them removed a few times.” And damn if that didn’t sting. “But I was worried I would not be able to care for you properly if I felt nothing towards you.” He snorted viciously. “I should have done it anyway. Kinder for you to have a guardian who doesn’t care about you than a twisted fuck keeping you around to fulfil some sick emotional need.”
“It wasn’t like that Bruce.”
“How do you know what it was like.” Bruce was angry, and Dick couldn’t tell if it was with Dick or himself.
“I guess I don’t but. When the flowers started for me, they hurt, but there was also something beautiful about them you know?”
Bruce just continued to stare at him.
“And I mean. I loved being around you. You never made me feel awkward or unsafe or anything. And it wasn’t when I was a little kid or anything-“
“Stop making excuses Dick.”
He was. He was still making them. Bruce was right, and he knew that on some level, but right now all he wanted was for at least one of them not to feel awful.
“Well it doesn’t matter now. I still love you. It doesn’t change anything.”
“It SHOULD.”
Bruce sprang up, snarling and pacing. “It should change everything about how you see me. It should make you leave.”
“Do you want me to?”
No answer.
“Do you still feel nothing at all for me?”
If he were any other man, Dick would have said that Bruce squirmed. “I have. Over the last few months, grown something of an attachment to you again. Not the same, and not as strong but. I can’t say that there isn’t anything there anymore.”
It was something, at least. “Then we’ll move forward from this, I guess. I still love you, I don’t know if anything could change that.”
“Time will.”
“It didn’t for you. They had to literally pull it from your chest.”
Bruce didn’t have a response to that, though it was clear he really wished he did.
They were at an impasse, neither of them happy with the other’s reaction or the secrets let out between them. But it was also clear that there was nothing to be done.
“I’ll be heading out then.” Dick said, and Bruce just grunted in acknowledgement.
Things went on much as they always had. Dick’s chest somehow both lighter and heavier. And if Bruce seemed to be getting something of a cough, well, it was nothing he need concern anyone with.