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Dick may have once described himself as a selfless man, you couldn’t be selfish with his job.
But as blood dripped from his mouth and onto his already crimson hands, Dick didn’t know if he could call himself that.
The vampire who had bit him, Pandora, was no more. She hadn’t been alive for a very long time, far longer than even Ra’s Al Ghul, but now she was finally put to rest. Dick doesn’t know if he is now a murderer, he doesn’t know if he was truly justified, if he would ever be able to recover from the shock of his hand going straight through her chest.
If Dick was justified in killing Pandora, acknowledge her nature as undead and accept it as merely putting a dead body back into its place as motionless in a grave, what does that mean for him? It was a constant cycle of thoughts that ran around his head over and over, no conclusion he could land on.
Maybe it would be for the best if he let himself go, accept his time has run out and save his family the heartache of having to hunt him down and finish the job.
But as Dick pulled his head back for his eyes, distinctly not human, to meet the wide, shocked eyes of his father, he knew he couldn’t do it.
No, Dick was a selfish man, and he wanted to stay with his family, he wanted to keep them close. He knew the risks, the danger of having a creature like him, someone so ready and able to stab his arm into someone’s chest at a moment's notice, around.
Dick slowly rose from where his knees pressed indents into the grass and dew covered dirt. He could tell the blood all over him was forming and drying into little globs of deep red, and he could tell his eyes were matched, just bright and glowing.
Bruce’s heartbeat thudded in his ears, a constant, quick pace that simultaneously calmed Dick and had his fangs aching, stomach churning.
Dangerous.
“Chum—“ Bruce breathed, eyes flicking over Dick, analysing, maybe for where the blood was coming from.
Dick felt another drop of blood dribble down his chin as he smiled, weak and so different from his usual self assured ways. “I’m fine.” It wasn’t so much speaking as it was croaking, the dryness in his throat matching the hunger that slowly consumed his mind.
Bruce didn’t look convinced. He took a step forward, cautious in a way Dick had never seen directed at him. Still, Dick stood still, his smile dropping into more of a grimace.
When finally Bruce came into view of Dick’s neck, he took in a sharp breath, but he didn’t look surprised. The eyes and bloody face probably gave it away, he was the world's greatest detective after all.
“What happened?” His father voiced softly, none of the gravel that he used on criminals, like Dick himself wasn’t a murderer.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Dick finally dropped his gaze, not wanting to see the anger in Bruce’s eyes when he said the next words. “I killed her.”
“Who?”
“Pandora.” Dick tried to steady his breathing, not that he needed to do that anymore. Without the distraction of his father’s eyes boring into his, Dick couldn’t take his focus off the steady thrumming of Bruce’s blood. “The vampire who bit me.” Something hissed in his head at the mere thought of the woman, twisting and churning Dick’s gut and thoughts.
A silence fell over the two, Bruce barely an arms length away. Dick could step forward and reach him if he wanted, it wouldn’t be a fair match, human against vampire. Even if that human is Batman, Dick knew he would win.
Just as his head started to spin from a chanting of bloodfoodhungrybloodfoodhungrybloodfoodhungy, Bruce spoke once more.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Dick’s head snapped up, mouth agape. “What?” He whispered. His eyes scanned every line of Bruce’s face, searching for a sign he was lying, he was saying things just to make Dick or himself feel better. There wasn’t a single trace of anything less than sincere.
Anger. Hatred. Disappointment.
Those were the emotions Dick expected from his mentor, his father.
However, it was the sadness that struck him silent. Of course Dick knew his father would be sad if someone died at the hands of his child, but he expected it to be a sadness laced with anger, sadness for the victim and victim alone.
A deep sorrow for Dick himself pooled in the man’s eyes. Threatened to appear as the rare show of tears Bruce sometimes lets slip. The mere thought of Bruce crying had something adjacent to anger pressing into’s Dick’s thoughts, but not against Bruce.
Despite everything, Bruce took another step forward, knowing what a monster Dick has become, probably knowing about the urges clawing past his throat and to his mouth that made him want to drain the man dry.
Arms wrapped around Dick’s form, around his limp arms and shaking hands. Bruce tucked his head close to Dick’s, his neck right next to Dick’s face.
Almost everything in Dick was screaming to bite down on the exposed skin, even if it was just a bit of blood, just a single drop.
Instead, with blood still coating them, Dick slowly wrapped his arms back around Bruce, a sob hitching in his chest. He focused on the feeling of warmth, combating against the bitter cold in his body he hadn’t noticed was there until Bruce was right there.
Bruce started slowly swaying Dick, a hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head, like he was a baby, his baby. “I trust you.” He murmured.
And Dick just snapped, a sob finally breaking free and opening the floodgates to all the pent up emotions he had suppressed.
Terror of the situation he had been put in, the monster he had been turned into. Anger for the choice and humanity that was forcibly stripped from him. Sadness because of the fate he knew he would have to fall on and put his family through. Confusion on why him?
Bruce was such an idiot– throwing away everything his training taught to hug and trust a clear threat right in front of his face? He preached so much about the contingencies he had for the League, the way you couldn’t ever fully put your trust into someone. All that for his contingency against the vampiric turning of his son just to be to what, hug him?
Dick buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder, tightening his hold to where it might be painful, but Bruce didn’t complain. He just held his boy, occasional murmurs of reassurance slipping out.
It was a dangerous mix, the unwavering trust Bruce had for his children and the selfish need crawling into every crevice of Dick’s mind.
“I’m sorry.” He growled, swallowing past the dryness in his throat.
Bruce’s hand gently squeezed the nape of Dick’s neck. “Why chum?”
He didn’t know the depths of Dick’s mind, how each dark corner grew more and more with each moment his brain screamed for blood. But it also begged for another thing, something Dick craved even as a human, ever since he was a child and he had to watch his parents fall to their death.
Family, or as his brain called for, Coven.
Instinct was a powerful thing, when Pandora had turned him she had expected to take the role of his sire, a word that repeated in Dick’s head just as much as the longing need for food. But what Pandora hadn’t expected was the fact that everything in Dick, even after being turned, rejected her rule. It was a Robin’s role to follow rules when needed and challenge the leader when needed.
After Pandora had died and the remnants of her group scattered, Dick’s mind had been consumed with a need, bigger than the hunger.
Dick wanted his siblings, he wanted to keep them all in one place where they would be safe, where he could watch over them and never have to worry again. He could be a good sire, he would never ever let anything happen to his baby siblings.
Even more, he wanted Bruce, so tired from years of crimefighting and the weight of the world on his mortal shoulders, to never have to worry again.
“I’m just- so selfish.”
No matter how much Dick wanted it, wanted to be able to keep his family from constantly putting their lives in danger, he knew that would be the death of their souls. Hell, Dick himself knew how much it would break him to never help anyone again if he was in the right state of mind.
Bruce pulled away, just slightly, to cup Dick’s face in his hand, his warm, mortal hand. “Dickie, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I do know you.” He swiped his thumb over Dick’s cheek, wiping away one of the many tears that had fallen, mixed in with the blood that still covered his face. “You are the furthest thing from selfish.”
Dick couldn’t handle it anymore, he couldn’t look in the eyes of his father when there was so much love and kindness in them. He didn’t deserve that. Dick just leaned forward, letting Bruce wrap his arms around him again.
Bruce adjusted his arms, hoisting Dick up in a princess carry and letting Dick hide his face away. It was familiar, something they used to do when Dick was Robin, after he used all his energy on patrol.
With that sweet memory, Dick let himself drift off, not knowing what will come next but trusting in his father’s love and judgment.