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It was late, later than Dick had intended to be out. He'd already texted his boss that evening to ask for the next day off, aware of where his limits were.
The drive from Gotham seemed impossibly longer than normal, and Dick could feel the sharp ache in his ribs even through the pain medication he'd taken at the cave when he'd gone to get patched up before leaving.
He could taste blood in his mouth, resisting the urge to tongue at the split in his swollen lip, earned when the long night had started to wear on him. Making him sloppy.
Dick didn't move after he parked, sitting in the silence after he turned the car off. Exhausted.
It was tempting to just stay there, to let the exhaustion dragging at his eyelids win.
He knew better.
Dick groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes for a long moment before forcing himself up, grabbing his duffel-bag out of the back and locking the car.
The elevator was down again, so Dick reluctantly made the trudge up the stairs to the seventh floor, unlocking the door and holding his breath as it swung open, creaking loudly in the late night quiet.
Silence.
Dick exhaled, setting his bag down on the floor as he leaned over to unlace his boots, grimacing as his body protested.
It was still dark outside, but dawn was fast approaching.
Dick stepped out of his boots, nudging them into place beside the door and hauling the strap of his bag up over his shoulder with a tired grunt.
Dick had left for Gotham soon after he'd gotten off work the previous day, barely taking the time to eat dinner before rushing out the door to help with the Arkham and Blackgate breakouts.
He wasn't sure he'd had time to rest since.
Dick moved quietly through the apartment, throwing his suit in the wash before going to take a shower himself.
He'd rinsed off in the cave, but he still felt the grit of dirt under his nails. Could smell smoke in his hair.
The cool water was soothing against the abrasions littered across his skin.
A few cuts and scratches, but nothing in need of stitches.
Just his ribs, really.
It was as good as the night could have gone.
Dick wrapped his ribs after he dried off, swallowing down some more pain pills before finally venturing back out into the apartment, clad in the loose workout clothes he'd had clean in his bag.
He hadn't wanted to go into the bedroom yet, unwilling to wake its occupants.
Still, despite his efforts, he wasn't alone when he reached the kitchen.
Joe sat at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy as he watched Dick over the lip of a steaming mug of tea.
"Hey," Dick said, soft in the quiet of the apartment.
Joe set the mug down, offering Dick a tired smile "Hey," He said, "Welcome back," He gave Dick a slow look up and down, searching for obvious injuries.
Dick felt a smile tug at his lips, despite his exhaustion. Despite the ache as it pulled the wound on his mouth.
"I told you guys not to wait up for me," Dick said, though they both knew that he was happy to see Joe.
Sometimes the early mornings were the hardest. Exhaustion dragging on him as he forced himself to think through the night prior, trying to figure out what he could have done better.
Who he could have saved if he'd just gotten there faster.
"I heard you come in," Joe said, which wasn't a denial.
Dick knew that Trina and Joe took shifts waiting for him to come home on late nights, when they were in town, no matter how often he told them that they didn't have to.
He'd come home, or he wouldn't. Waiting and stressing about it wouldn't change anything.
Still, if it made them feel better then Dick couldn't complain too much. They didn't ask him not to go, and he didn't tell them how to feel about it when he went.
Dick stepped around the table, leaning down to brush his swollen lips chastely against Joe's. Joe wrapped an arm around Dick's waist, making his breath hitch as he twitched away from the dull pain.
Joe pulled away, tugging Dick's shirt up to see the wrappings.
"Just bruised," Dick rushed to reassure him, letting Joe look his fill at the scrapes and bruises adorning Dick's skin.
Eventually, Joe let Dick's shirt fall again, his brows furrowed as he looked up at Dick searching his face.
"I promise," Dick said, soft.
Joe nodded "Okay," He said, "I believe you."
Dick felt warm with affection.
He was too tired to complain much when Joe stood, ushering Dick into a chair and stepping towards the refrigerator, pulling out some leftovers and setting them to heat up.
Dick braced his elbows on the table, head resting in his hands as he watched Joe move around the kitchen.
Appreciating the way that Joe's shirt rode up when he reached into the cabinet for another mug, using the water from the still-hot kettle to brew some more tea for Dick.
Dick took the mug gratefully, breathing in the steam.
He took a slow sip, closing his eyes as he appreciated the dab of honey on his raw throat. He was lucky that he hadn't lost his voice, as much yelling as he'd done that night.
He didn't realize how long he sat there, just resting his eyes, until there was a plate being set in front of him.
Dick blinked his eyes open, offering another smile to Joe as the man took a moment to rest his hand on Dick's shoulder, letting him relish in the closeness before pulling away to sit across from Dick, picking up his own cooling tea as he watched Dick.
Dick picked up the fork, spearing a piece of pasta and putting it in his mouth.
Dick had taken a few breaks over the course of the night, downing calorie packed protein bars and chugging bottles of water, but it wasn't anywhere near enough to sustain him for as long as he'd been going. Especially with how cold it was outside.
He closed his eyes as he chewed, appreciating the taste of real food.
It didn't hurt that Trina's cooking was amazing, as always.
Jason had been helping her in the kitchen recently, eager to learn everything they could teach him.
They'd enrolled Jason in school for the winter, while the circus was on break, and he was already complaining that it was too easy and looking for other ways to occupy his active mind.
Thus the cooking, and the stack of library books on the coffee table.
Jason also had friends that he hung out with after school, time to socialize now that he wasn't practicing for shows all the time.
There was still practice, of course, but not as much as during the active season.
Slowly, the tension drained out of Dick's body, his legs nudging against Joe's under the table as Dick slumped, already half-asleep by the time he finished eating.
Joe stole the plate before Dick could rally himself to get up, rinsing it off in the sink before circling back to Dick, pressing a kiss against Dick's temple.
Dick leaned into him, his warmth, murmuring out "I love you."
The words were soft, almost achingly genuine as he let the last of Nightwing slip off of his shoulders.
It was just Dick and Joe.
"Thank you," Dick said, not bothering to clarify what for.
It was everything.
"Let's get you to bed, yeah?" Joe said, still holding Dick close.
"Stretches first," Dick mumbled, knowing that the morning would be even more miserable if he didn't.
Joe hummed, but didn't disagree.
Dick groaned, pushing himself out of the chair to stand upright.
Joe followed as Dick went to grab one of the yoga mats and spread it out on the living room floor, sluggishly forcing himself through his wind-down routine, stretching out his aching muscles to keep them from locking up overnight.
Joe sat on the coffee table, watching.
"I love you, too," Joe said, and Dick felt his gaze like a physical touch, noting which stretches made Dick wince, which ones he had to breathe through.
Dick offered him a slightly strained smile, exhaling slowly as he pushed through a particularly rough stretch, careful not to push himself too far.
"Good job out there," Joe said, soft, "We caught some of the news, after Jay went to bed."
Dick wondered what they'd seen, what had been reported on.
How much Trina and Joe could trace back to him specifically over the other bats.
He knew that they wouldn't ask, and he probably wouldn't tell them.
They didn't need to know that he was lucky to walk away from a fight with Killer Croc with as little damage as some bruised ribs.
That the bats had all been pulled in so many directions that Dick had spent most of the night knowing that there was no backup if things went south.
The number of close calls and bullets dodged.
It was fine, he'd come home mostly unscathed. That was all that mattered.
So Dick just laughed and said "I hope the caught my good side on camera," throwing a wink Joe's way.
Joe rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
"You don't have a bad side," Joe told him, because they both knew that Dick had been on camera for as long as he could remember.
"Aww," Dick said "You're so sweet,"
Joe nudged him with his foot, setting Dick off balance and making him collapse to the floor, only mostly to be dramatic.
Dick groaned, pushing himself up slowly, wincing at the aches and pains that wracked through him.
Joe caught his hands, pulling him upright and catching Dick when he staggered.
"Easy," Joe said, wrapping an arm around Dick's waist, careful of his ribs.
"Now it's time for bed," Dick sighed, leaning against Joe and letting him guide them down the hall.
The bedroom door opened quietly, the room beyond only lit by the dim light casting in through the window.
Trina stirred when they came closer, blinking up at them blearily.
"Hi," She said, tugging Dick close when Joe lifted the covers and nudged him into bed.
Dick went easily, letting her cuddle up close against his chest.
Joe settled in behind him, his breath tickling Dick's nape as he sighed, content.
It was easy to fall asleep like that, surrounded by the people he loved.