Chapter Text
It was Monday, and Bruce already knew it would be a horrible week that had started with another horrible patrol that night. Just like every night lately.
Alfred knew that Bruce was losing it. Tim, a literal child, knew that Bruce was losing it, but nothing could erase the pain of losing one son to teenage and then young adult rebellion and Bruce’s pride, and then losing another to Bruce’s direct failure as a guardian. Dick could come back and even if he didn’t he was out there and talking to Alfred, Tim and Babs, but Jason… Jason would forever lie in the ground, and no one but a select few would know just how bright he shone and how big his last blast of life was.
“I'm so glad that you decided to tell us with plenty of time to prepare for such a change,” Alfred said primly and sarcastically into the landline in the office. “But congratulations are in order.”
Bruce didn’t even care who was on the phone. All he wanted was to get through the paperwork so he could lose himself in the eternal crimes of Gotham and hopefully do some good. Any good.
“Master Bruce, it’s for you,” Alfred said, but Bruce couldn’t look away from the papers. Tim had hurt his knee last night, all because Bruce was too busy yelling to see the Penguin in the shadows.
“You should answer it, Master Bruce.” Alfred sounded annoyed, and his words had gotten an icy sharpness. “It’s Master Dick.”
Everything stopped. The pen fell, and Bruce could only see Alfred standing with the landline. “It’s Dick?”
Alfred nodded. “It is.”
Bruce’s hand rose as Alfred walked towards Bruce with the phone receiver and long cord. Dick was calling him? It almost didn’t matter if Dick was calling to yell at him. All Bruce wanted was to hear his voice to know that at least one of his boys was alive.
“Dick?” Bruce whispered when the phone was pressed snugly to his ear. He pressed it a little tighter when there was no immediate answer and he was rewarded with Dick’s breathing on the other end of the line. “What’s wrong, Chum? Did something happen on a mission? Do you need me to come over?”
“No, everything’s fine, Bruce. You should just know that I-” Dick was breathing very heavily on the other end of the line and a baby was crying in the background. “You’re a grandfather.”
Bruce didn’t understand at first. Had Dick only called to call him old? He was only in his mid 30s but he could be insulted a little if that meant that Dick wanted to talk to him.
“I’m a dad now,” Dick continued and Bruce’s heart stopped beating.
Dick was a father? Bruce blinked, stunned. He hadn’t even known Dick was dating anyone seriously, let alone ready for a child. 21 was way too young for kids in Bruce’s opinion, but he would have kept quiet about it if Dick really wanted a child. Bruce knew the allure of having a blood relation after his parents died and Dick must have felt it too and deserved every piece of happiness that he could get.
“Are you still there?” Dick asked and he sounded so small and young. The baby in the background stopped crying. Bruce closed his eyes and tightened his free hand when he realized it was Dick’s baby who had stopped crying.
“Congratulations, Dick.” Bruce hesitated and then hurried out. “Can I come over and see you and the baby?”
Dick was quiet for a moment. “Not yet. Mary is still recovering.”
Bruce didn’t know any Marys, and he had thought that Dick would have had a baby with his teammate Koriand'r if he was going to have it with anyone at such a young age. Maybe Bruce didn’t know Dick that well anymore, but perhaps he could learn about him again. Dick hadn't called Bruce his father, but he had said that he was a grandfather now. That had to count for something.
Dick’s breathing was still loud and real. It was so real. “But the baby’s fine. He’s good. Everything’s good.”
Bruce wanted to hug him. He wanted to let Dick share all his worries and joys, but every word with Dick was like balancing on a tightrope that Dick could jump around on easily, and Bruce could fall from even if he calculated every step.
“Can I see you?”
Dick’s breathing was less loud, but it was still there, reminding Bruce that he was still there. He was still talking to Dick, who wanted him to know about such a significant part of his life.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Bruce looked over at Alfred. He stood by the door and seemed to know everything despite only hearing half of the conversation.
“Can I know his name?”
“Yes, Peter Patrick Grayson.”
“It’s a good name. Jason would be honored to share his middle name with someone.”
“Mary decided on it, but I love it too. Patrick was Mary’s father’s first name. Peter is his own person, but he has both their goodness.”
Bruce wanted to cry and run away from it all. He was a grown man, but these emotions were too much for even his giant frame. “She sounds like a nice girl.”
“She is. She’s great. Peter’s great, too.”
Bruce cleared his throat, swallowed on nothing, and cleared his throat again. “How are you?”
Dick went quiet and Bruce was preparing him for the heartbreak of Dick hanging up and then not talking to him for another eleven months. “Tired.”
“I’ve heard that both Law School and a baby can be tiring.”
“Heh, yeah, yeah, both can be very tiring, but it’s great. He’s mine, Bruce, he’s really mine. My little boy.” Dick sounded exhausted but happy as he talked about Peter. The tension was still there, but there was a radiance to every word. The bright tone only dulled a little at his following words. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before.”
Bruce would have shaken any rogue if they had withheld information even half as important as this, but he couldn’t do that to Dick. Dick was too far away emotionally and literally in his little apartment, only a short drive away from Gotham University. Dick hadn’t told Bruce where he lived or that he had started his law degree a short two months ago, but he hadn’t stopped Alfred from telling anyone either.
Bruce could physically kick the door in and see Dick and a little baby that Bruce imagined would have Dick’s sparkling blue eyes and dark hair. He could already see Dick's nose, lips and eyes on a little copy that Bruce would beg for the chance to see grow up to be as brilliant as Dick.
“I’m just glad to know now, Chum.”
“He was born 2 days ago,” Dick supplied. “October 23rd, a little before 4 am, at 36 weeks and 2 days, but he’s small for that. Only 5 pounds one ounce, so the doctors said he might be a little more premature, but he’s strong, and we got home yesterday afternoon.”
Bruce had only held a baby once, and it was months old and weighed much more than any newborn. Five pounds sounded like something that could never survive in Gotham, and Bruce didn’t think that babies were born prematurely without cause. But Dick knew more than people gave him credit for, and if he said the baby, Peter, was strong, then he was strong.
“He mostly just sleeps. Mary does too.” Dick quieted down for a moment. “Mary is Peter’s mother.”
Dick had barely said a word to Bruce all year, and now he seemed unable to stop talking in the long pauses between them. Dick hadn’t even thanked Bruce himself for his birthday gift back in March, but that had been only three months after Jason’s death and a long time of rare contact. It was nice having Dick want to share such things with him, and maybe Bruce could learn enough to be allowed to share more than just empty words.
Bruce just hummed and then asked, “Are you happy?”
"Ecstatic. I just knew he was mine as soon as I saw him.”
“I’m glad, Chum. You deserve it.”
Dick went quiet again, and Bruce wanted to scold himself for talking and not saying enough at that moment.
“I can call you when Mary’s ready for visitors again. Her mother and sister have already seen Peter today, and I want you and Alfred to see him too.”
Bruce closed his eyes and tried not to cry. Dick had a baby and Dick wanted Bruce to see him. Dick wanted to see Bruce too. They probably wouldn’t hug but Bruce would get to see Dick and maybe even hold another baby. A smaller one that he could hopefully watch grow up into an adult. Bruce didn’t know if the baby would be strong-willed or ready to listen to authorities, but he knew he would one day take on the world with an admirable vigor. Any child of Dick would be more amazing than Bruce could even imagine.
“Anytime. Just call, and then I’ll come right away.”
Bruce could almost see Dick’s smirk as he asked, “Even if it cuts into patrol time?”
“Yes,” Bruce answered immediately.
“Oh, okay. I’ll call you, okay?”
“I’ll be ready.”
Alfred brought over a handkerchief for Bruce’s wet eyes as soon as Dick hung up the phone. The papers would have to wait.