Title: Nobody Understands (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Donna Troy, Garth, Wally West, Bruce Wayne
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dick’s friends really don’t understand Bruce.
Date Of Completion: March 1, 2009
Date Of Posting: March 2, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 678
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: While I love my slashy boys, I do love to write them early in their careers, when Dick is just Wee!Dick and even more adorable, if that’s possible! :) Also, Bruce teaches Dick a lot, but learns some things himself.
Dick jubilantly celebrated with his new friends in Titans’ Tower, provided by Bruce and Ollie. They had defeated the bad guys, all by themselves, and had made their mentors proud. Their new team, The Teen Titans, were going to be great; he just knew it. Even if none of them were officially teens for a few years yet.
“Man, that was fun!” Roy chirped.
Donna, Garth, and Wally nodded, all smiles.
“Ollie called me and said he was proud of the work we did!” Roy beamed.
Dick was happy for his friend. Roy was sometimes a little unsure of himself, and when Ollie paid attention, he was always encouraging.
“Uncle Barry said the same thing.” Wally zipped around the room.
“Diana and Arthur agree,” Donna laughed.
“I suppose the Bat didn’t call?” asked Wally.
“I haven’t heard from him.” Which didn’t bother Dick. Bruce would let him know.
“He’s a tough taskmaster, eh?”
Dick felt stung. “He just wants to make sure I’m well-trained.” It had been the same way in the circus. His parents had drilled into him the importance of keeping his wits about him, because it could mean life-or-death or serious injury, and that hadn’t changed as Robin.
“He must be no fun.” Donna looked sad. Diana was always fun.
Nobody understands.
Roy was the closest, having worked together with him and Bruce even before the Titans, partnered with Ollie, but even he didn’t always understand. Besides Alfred, no one did.
He couldn’t exactly explain, either. Bruce was a very private person, and liked things kept in the family.
“Never mind the Bat,” Roy said. “Let’s get pizza and celebrate!”
Dick eagerly joined in the hearty affirmations. Toppings were shouted out and Roy went to phone the order in.
“Robin.”
The quiet voice cut into the revelry. The Titans turned, eyes widening as they saw the dark-garbed Bat looming in the doorway, cape draped over him.
Dick hurried over, his smile lighting up the room. “Batman, we won! We’re going to celebrate with pizza!”
“There’s been a break-out.”
Dick’s heart sank. He didn’t have to ask from where. Disappointed, he shook it off and became all business. Turning, he said, “I gotta go, guys! Eat a slice for me!”
He could see their pitying expressions as Bruce enfolded him in his cape to escort him out. A little put out, he nevertheless smiled and waved goodbye.
He suddenly realized that he’d heard an unspoken “I’m sorry” at the end of Bruce’s declaration.
& & & & & &
The quiet clack of computer keys mingled with the squeaking of bats in the drafty Cave. Still cowled, Bruce was writing up his report.
Dick emerged from the showers, wrapped in a fluffy yellow robe and wearing flip-flops. He pushed back strands of wet hair.
The chase after the Scarecrow had been, well, scary. Luckily neither one had gotten a dose of fear toxin this time, Dick shuddering at the memory of previous encounters.
He approached Bruce quietly. When he reached the chair, Bruce looked at him and read the question in his young partner’s eyes. He stretched out an arm in invitation, and Dick flashed a smile and crawled into Bruce’s lap as the cape draped over him.
He could feel Bruce’s warmth and the silk of the cape enfolding him as he curled up, heard the clacking of the keys and rustling of batwings, eventually drifting off to sleep.
& & & & & &
Bruce kept up steady typing, the precision and orderliness of the act of typing soothing him.
He was always soothed by Dick’s presence.
He paused for a moment, picking up a pen and writing on Bat-embossed stationary, a gift from a certain saucy Little Bird from a Gotham stationer’s shop.
He wrote…
& & & & & &
Saturday (Tomorrow)
Zoo?
Park?
Children’s Museum?
Lunch: Pizza
& & & & & &
Bruce completed his report, hitting ‘Save’, and shut down the terminal.
He rose carefully with Dick in his arms, and started up the stone steps to the Manor.
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