Chapter Text
Bruce was having an awful day. No scratch that awful week. Awful fortnight? Yeah awful fortnight sounded about right. While emotions had never really been his forte, even he knew that he had fucked up big time. Dick disappearing was just the icing on the cake.
“You really have no clue where he is?” Bruce asks a bored Tim for the 15th time.
“It’s Dick. If he wants to be found he’ll be found.” Tim shrugs, not looking up from his phone.
“He hasn’t even seen any of my texts.”
“Have you considered the fact that he is quite justifiably ignoring you?” Tim counters,
“Obviously I have.”
“Then why are you freaking out? If he was in danger he would reach out. Dick’s pissed at you. Rightfully pissed at you might I add, but he’s not mad enough to risk his own life over it.” Tim takes a bite out of his banana and continues to scroll through his phone.
“What about Barbara? Has she seen him?”
“Why don’t you ask HER that?” Tim finally looks up from his phone. Bruce gives him a look. “Right, my bad. Babs wouldn’t sell Dick out like that.”
“You are NOT being helpful.” Bruce grumbles,
“Have you tried apologizing? Usually that fixes most misunderstandings.” Tim offers,
“I can only apologize if I can FIND him, or if he checks his goddamn phone.” Bruce scowls,
“So you're admitting that even with all your detective skills, you still can’t find your eldest son.” Tim chews on his banana. Bruce scowls at him even harder, having had enough of the verbal jabs. He turns around and heads back to his study.
“If you have nothing helpful to say, don't say anything at all Timothy.”
“Practice what you preach Bruce!” Tim yells back. Bruce is an adult. He has 6 children. He needs to be a good example. He slams the door to his study anyway. Down the hallway he hears Tim laughing.
“You know I’m pretty sure the last time I’ve seen you like this was… oh right when you fucked shit up by giving Dick’s family name to a complete stranger and replacing him.” Bruce presses a hand to his already throbbing forehead. It does nothing to ease his headache when he looks up to see Jason sitting at his desk, smirking at him.
“Jason.”
“I mean I’m just saying. You do know that this is your fault right? I’m honestly with Goldie. If you said that shit to me I’d probably be shooting up Crime Alley right now.” Jason shrugs,
“You wouldn’t do that.” Bruce replies resolutely.
“Yeah well that’s not the point here. Have you even tried to apologize to him?” Jason counters, him completely ignoring Bruce’s previous statement was as close as he would ever get to admitting that Bruce was right.
“Yes I have! He isn’t answering and I can’t fucking find him! Why else would I be asking Tim about it?” Bruce snaps,
“So you admit that Tim is better at finding people than you?” Jason smirks, Bruce takes a breath. He takes another. His breathing techniques aren’t working. He needs to find Dick. Bruce goes to where the entrance to the cave is hidden. “MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T SUCH A JACKASS HE WOULDN’T DISAPPEAR ON YOU LIKE THIS!” Jason’s voice rings in his ears as the elevator takes him away from the outside world.
He steps out and lets out a breath. Silence. Finally.
Bruce walks over to the computer and sits down. He frowns at the screen. It was already unlocked. He takes a minute to ponder it over. His security was the best in the world. The only people who could get in were the ones that had the correct passwords and security codes. So it was either Alfred or one of his kids. He knew that Damian was sulking somewhere in the manor. In that moment it was completely plausible to Bruce that his annoyed youngest would unlock the computer and leave it like that just to irritate him. Damian always did love Dick more. Shaking thoughts of Damian away he focuses on his task— Find Dick. Once he found Dick and apologized, the others would thaw out too.
The cave is too silent now. Even the Bats aren't chittering. The cave hasn't been this silent since before Robin. Bruce suddenly hates the silence.
A part of him regrets not being in his study, most of his current work on finding Dick was up there, but the cave was much better for tracking Dick down anyway, and he wasn’t interested in listening to Jason throw his mistake in his face over and over and over again. Not that Bruce had much to work with when it came to finding his eldest. For how flamboyant and easygoing Dick could be, Bruce knew that there was a lot the 1st Robin hid underneath the surface. He wondered if maybe he was the reason for that. Bruce was not proud of how he had treated Dick. Always believing that the younger deserved better and always wondering when he would finally do the logical thing—cut Bruce off. And how well is him cutting you off going for you? A snarky voice that sounds like Alfred whispers in his head. He ignores mind-Alfred and runs through his system to search for the trackers he had on Dick.
All of them were disabled. Ugh. He knew he was being irrational. Dick was busy. Dick went on missions a lot. There were always people who needed his help. That didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t answering any of Bruce’s messages.
“Have you tried using the Watchtower’s locating system? I’m afraid it’s no match for our computer but it may give you a different perspective.” It says a lot about Bruce’s mental state that Alfred’s voice nearly has him falling out of his chair. They stare at each other.
“I have but I will try again.” Bruce stands up gruffly and walks past the wary butler. He had already tried the Watchtower. But Dick was gone and Bruce had this irrational fear that he wasn’t going to come back and there was no way Bruce would survive that.
2 weeks ago...
The car was silent. Bruce was fuming, the steering wheel clenched tightly in his hands. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t bent under his grip yet.
“B…”
“Save it Nightwing. I knew you were reckless but I didn't think it had gotten this bad.” Bruce replies, voice colored in barely suppressed rage. Rage was usually the cover for his worry. His worry and fear that had him breaking from his post to get to Dick before they had another tragedy on their hands. His desperation that made him so utterly furious and relieved with the alive young man sitting next to him.
“Reckless?! I do shit like that all the time!” Dick scowls,
“You disobeyed direct orders.”
“Technically you're not the boss of me anymore.”
“You disobeyed my orders and my plans. In my city you have no authority to do that Nightwing.” Bruce growls,
“YOUR City?! I've bled just as much for these streets as you!” Dick retorts, eyes blazing. They pull into the cave.
“Don't move.” Bruce warns as he gets out.
“I'll damn move if I want to.” Dick struggles with the door and pushes past Bruce before nearly collapsing on his fucked up ankle. He scowls as Bruce picks him up and takes him to the medbay after taking his cowl off. They had about 30 minutes before the rest of the family got home. More than enough time to talk some sense into his stubborn son.
“You endangered your own life.”
“I saw an opportunity for a distraction. I took it.” Dick replies tersely after taking his domino off.
“A distraction? You were flying blind! The only reason you didn't get hit by one of those bullets was pure luck!” Bruce snaps,
“Okay and? It worked out! I'm fine, and the hostages are safe. What the fuck are you so pissed about then?” Dick hisses as Bruce rotates his ankle to check its mobility.
I'm not pissed, I'm scared. You can't be this reckless with your own life. It isn't worth less than others. I CANNOT bury you too. That is what Bruce wanted to say. Instead he said, “I'm pissed because for some fucking reason, after so many goddamn years, you still think this is some sort of game.”
“Some sort of game?! I don't think this is a game!!” Dick shouts furiously.
Then stop treating your own life as if it is one!
“Then stop with your fucking tricks!”
“Tricks? They aren't fucking tricks! I took a calculated move! I judged the-”
“YOU DIDN'T JUDGE ANYTHING!” Bruce roars, cutting him off, vision going red. “YOU SAW AN OPPORTUNITY TO PERFORM AND YOU TOOK IT!”
“OPPORTUNITY TO PERFORM? BRUCE I HAD A PLAN! IT WAS A STRATEGIC MOVE THAT WORKED!” Dick screams back furiously.
“STRATEGIC MOVE?! YOU SAW A STAGE AND A SPOTLIGHT AND YOU TOOK IT!”
“THAT'S WHAT A DISTRACTION DOES!”
“A DISTRACTION IS PLANNED!”
“I DID PLAN IT!”
“NO YOU DIDN'T! YOU SAW A CHANCE TO BE THE CENTER OF ATTENTION AND YOU TOOK IT!” Bruce knew from the very beginning that this would turn into one of their explosive fights. One of the fights where Bruce communicated every worry as anger, and Dick responded back with a rage and stubbornness to rival his own. Bruce did not expect the sheer intensity of his own rage to be this visceral though. All fueled by irrational mind-numbing fear. “ALL YOU WANTED WAS A CHANCE TO SHOW OFF ! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT DICK? THIS ISN'T THE GODDAMN CIRCUS ANYMORE! ” Dick recoils as if slapped. “YOUR FANCY FLIPS AND TRICKS MAY HAVE SAVED YOU WHEN YOU WERE ROBIN BUT THEY WON'T SAVE YOU NOW!”
The words said in the heat of the moment leave Bruce exhausted. His anger spent in the worst way possible. Now that the fog had cleared, his words came back to him in resounding clarity. Dick was staring directly at him. His face had gone through a myriad of emotions while Bruce had talked put his foot in his mouth. Bruce had seen flashes of pure rage, hurt, sadness, and disbelief all over his first robin. But any of those emotions was better than the expression on Dick’s face right now. Or rather the lack of expression. Dick was gazing at him with a cold intensity that seemed so woefully wrong on a face that usually sported a smile and a grin. Bruce could feel the panic grip him. Why the FUCK did I say all of that?!?!? He was mortified with himself. He had dragged the circus into it. He called Dick a show-off. What the hell is wrong with me??!!?!? Bruce swallowed past the building panic. This was it. This was the nail in the coffin. Bruce had gone too far.
Everyone in the family fought, but there were some topics you never, ever brought up in a fight. With Jason you never brought up his time as a crime lord, with Tim and Damien you never brought up their time with the League of Assassins. With Cass you never mentioned her time with Lady Shiva, and with Steph you never mentioned her father. With Bruce you never mentioned the alleyway. With Dick you never brought the circus into it.
The circus was a sanctuary for Dick’s memories, all of his good memories from before Robin. Nobody dared sully it by turning it into a verbal weapon. One time Jason did, in the very very beginning, before he died. He called Dick a Circus Brat. To this day Bruce still remembers the screaming and the crying that came after. The crying was from Jason. Not from Dick. Never from Dick. 1 hour after Jason said the dreaded words, he had willingly written a letter of apology to Dick. Key word being willingly. Dick had read the letter, nodded and walked out without a single word to either of them. When Bruce had asked Jason all those years ago what happened, he just looked at Bruce with the understanding of someone who understood Dick fundamentally despite not knowing him as long.
“He doesn’t even use half of his anger when he yells at you.” Jason had said. Bruce had blinked at him confused.
"What are you talking about?” Bruce had asked.
“Dick only gets half-way mad at you. That isn’t his rage.” Jason had said.
"How do you know that?” Bruce had asked quietly, curiously.
“Because he looks angry when he yells at you. When he’s really angry. Like really really really angry at you, you won’t see it at all. You won’t be able to see more than what he allows you to see, which is nothing.”
Jason’s words from all those years ago hit Bruce like a freight train. He finally understood what Jason had meant. Which also meant that Dick was well and truly livid. They stay in silence, Dick stares at him as if daring him to say another word with cold dead eyes. Bruce knows when he’s fucked up. He silently wraps Dick’s ankle, trying desperately to ignore the dread pooling in his stomach the longer Dick observes him. He felt like an animal being dissected, taken apart and reassembled. When he’s done he finally makes eye contact with Dick again. There’s nothing. It’s not a clouded gaze of a wasted person. Neither is it a vacant gaze of somebody zoned out. Nor is it a vitriolic gaze fueled by anger. For the first time in Bruce’s entire life he has no clue what’s going on in his eldest son’s head and it scares the shit out of him.
“Dick, I…. I’m sorry…I’m really sorry. ” Bruce breaks the tentative silence. Dick says nothing and continues to stare at him, blue eyes boring into him unemotionally. Bruce swallows past the uncomfortable feeling spreading throughout his body. Is this how others felt around him? Is this what it felt like when he shut other people out? Dick clicks his tongue and looks pointedly to the side of the room. Right. Crutches. Bruce walks over briskly and grabs a singular crutch. Dick takes it and eases himself off of the bed. Once he’s standing he looks at Bruce again. He still hadn’t said anything about the apology. He hasn't spoken at all since Bruce spectacularly put his foot in his mouth. Bruce didn't expect forgiveness. In all honesty he expected Dick to walk out of his life and never come back. Except Dick continues watching him silently. There was no storm behind his eyes, no tension in his jaw or in any of his other muscles. All of Dick’s usual signs that he was angry were nowhere to be found. If it weren’t for the interaction, Bruce would have thought that Dick was trying to pretend his ankle wasn’t hurting as badly as it was. But that was not the case. The ankle was clearly the furthest thing from Dick’s mind at the minute.
“I really am sorry chum.” Bruce repeats, forlornly and desperately. Dick opens his mouth, Bruce braces himself. There are hundreds of things Dick could use to tear him to pieces. To turn Batman into nothing more than the broken man that he was.
“Thank you for wrapping my ankle Batman.”